


Clash

by AntarcticBird



Category: Glee
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is a sexual free spirit with a bit of a reputation, Kurt doesn't do casual. It should be impossible, and yet Blaine just cannot stop thinking about him.<br/>Written for <a href="http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/48822.html?thread=63090614#t63090614">this gkm prompt</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He transfers to McKinley at the beginning of his senior year, and it's definitely a new challenge. Not the school stuff. Classes here are totally easier than they'd been at Dalton, and he hadn't had too much difficulty keeping good grades there. But – the fun parts of life. Blaine has a feeling that those are going to be somewhat more difficult at this new school than it had been at the all-boys paradise of Dalton.

Letting his eyes sweep across the room during his first period, he takes in his fellow classmates, trying to make sense of them, to figure out if there's anyone worth paying attention to. At Dalton, it had been easy – with a higher-than-usual concentration of gay guys anyway and a very high proportion of open-minded straight guys with a healthy appetite for experimentation, he'd never had any difficulty enjoying himself. Finding willing partners had been easy. And if he'd been unable to find them at school, there had always been Scandals.

He knows he could just go to Scandals some night this week to get what he wants, find someone hot and willing and go home satisfied. But he's always enjoyed a challenge. And this is one. It's going to be interesting. Especially since he doesn't have a reputation here to – help him along.

At Dalton, people had known. He'd still enjoyed the chase, the flirting, the build up of tension before the eventual reward. And he'd been good at it from the start, knowing just how to present himself, how to show himself off in his tight jeans and shirts that stretched across his chest and leather jackets that made his waist seem even smaller than it was. Add some dark eyeliner and some carefully tousled curls, and Blaine knew he could make himself irresistible. He was pretty sure he'd slept with pretty much every gay guy at Dalton, and with a good number of the straight ones too.

He knows what a lot of them are saying behind his back – but he doesn't let it bother him. He's never thought of himself as a slut, and if others want to call him that, well, they can go fuck themselves. He's actually fucked a lot of them first, which gives him a definite sense of satisfaction. Blaine enjoys sex. A lot. He doesn't see what the big deal is; two willing partners having fun, and he's always careful, he's always safe. If people want him and he wants them back – what's wrong with that? Everyone wants sex, and Blaine is willing to give it to them.

Leaning back in his chair in his corner of the English classroom, he lets his eyes settle on the boy sitting next to him – and unless his gaydar is way off, he thinks he's just struck gold. The guy is gorgeous; pale with a light dusting of freckles on his cute, upturned nose, hair swept up and away from his forehead, and his clothes – obviously designer. Blaine may be more the ripped white t-shirts and beat-up converse type of guy, but he still knows McQueen when he sees it. He's taken enough designer items off of other guys to have acquired a certain expertise in the area.

Blaine keeps looking, staring openly and unashamed. He's never been one to place too much value on looks, but he can't deny that this guy is an absolute dream; there's something angelic about the fine lines of his profile while he manages to look overwhelmingly cute and blood-boilingly hot at the same time.

Probably a virgin, Blaine thinks. That might be an extra challenge – while he's found enough guys who'd been happy enough to just lose their virginity in a fun, no-strings-attached way, he's also come across enough who'd turned him down, because they were waiting for the right guy or whatever. Which is cool, to each his own. Blaine just really wants to figure out what category Freckles here belongs in. Because he's really fucking hot and Blaine – well. If there's any way into his pants at all, Blaine decides that he must have him.

Before he can form a strategy to initiate contact, though, Freckles beats him to it by turning his head, staring back at him with a defiant look in his eyes. “Is there a problem?” he hisses.

Blaine smirks. “Hi.” He reclines further in his uncomfortable classroom chair, spreading his legs under the table and rolling back his shoulders so that his shirt stretches tighter across his chest. “Nice to meet you. I'm Blaine.”

Freckles just gives him a disbelieving look, eyes sweeping up and down his body, before he snorts with a flicker of derision in his eyes and turns his eyes back to the front of the room, obviously unimpressed.

Blaine still doesn't miss the faint blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck, and he grins to himself. He's had an effect on him, even if it wasn't the one he'd hoped. Well. He can work with that. He'll keep trying.

“Mr Anderson?”

He snaps his eyes away from Freckles, back to their teacher who's giving him a stern look. “Are you with us? Or is there something fascinating on Mr Hummel's neck that you'd like to share with us?”

Blaine gives her his most charming smile, sitting up straight and shaking his head. “No, I'm not much for sharing, but thanks for the offer.”

She presses her lips together into a thin line, frowning. “Since it's your first day, I'll let this slide. But you might want to rethink your attitude,” she tells him.

Blaine crosses his arms in front of his chest, rolls his eyes as soon as she turns his back.

 _Hummel_ , he thinks, glancing back over at the boy as soon as their teacher's attention is elsewhere. At least he knows his last name already. Freckles Hummel. He'll find out more about him later.

**

It takes a week before Blaine makes his first conquest – which, to be honest, is a lot quicker than he'd hoped. But he does end up in detention eventually after defending himself against some homophobic assholes in the hallways between classes. It almost makes him miss Dalton. Stuff like that didn't happen there.

The jocks who attacked him end up in detention too, but he ignores them, focusing instead on the rather cute band dude who's here because of some stupid prank. He's glad to find that his usual charms are still in working order when he and band dude end up in the backseat of band dude's car after detention, exchanging quick but satisfactory handjobs.

Band dude – Keenan – thanks him politely once they're done, and they exchange secretive grins as Blaine cleans himself off with an offered tissue, pulls up his pants and slides out of the car. Just the start of his second week and he's already back on track.

He walks across the parking lot to his own car, coming to a stop when he sees a group of people exit the building – they must be the glee club, judging from their poor fashion sense and the fact that he'd heard them wailing in the room next to the detention classroom the entire time he'd been in there.

They're a colorful bunch and Blaine scans them with his eyes – there's always a few gays in glee. It had been one of the main reasons he'd joined the Warblers back at Dalton. That, and the fact that he actually likes to sing.

A slow smile spreads across his face as he spots Freckles – Hummel – in the small crowd, hanging onto the arm of a gorgeous black girl who talks animatedly as they make their way over to the row of cars.

Well, he thinks. Maybe it's time to rejoin glee. This place could certainly use an infusion of good music from what he'd heard earlier.

And also, if band dude was any indication, the music geeks at this school seem a safe way back into his old way of life. And if it gets him closer to Freckles, that's all the better.


	2. Chapter 2

He's late to glee club because he'd been busy setting up a “date” with his chem lab partner – at least he's pretty sure about the point of their meeting later that night, even if Owen – tall, blond, handsome, and undeniably straight – had been pretty clear about wanting to just “go over their notes.” At his house. While his parents were away. _Sure_. Blaine grins to himself as he hurries through the halls toward the choir room. It's hardly the first time he's been invited to a straight guy's house to “compare notes” without parental supervision. He's looking forward to it.

The glee club is already busy singing scales to warm up when he finally pushes the door open, strolling into the room with his hands in his pockets.

Voices fade one by one, until everyone's looking at him while he makes his way to the center of the room where the teacher is standing, hands still raised and mouth open. “Can I help you?” he asks.

Blaine shrugs. “This is the glee club, right?”

“Sure,” the teacher confirms.

“Cool.” Blaine takes off his jacket, tossing it up onto the piano. “Can I join? I'll audition or whatever.”

“Are you any good?” A short girl in the front row speaks up, eyeing him warily. “We don't just take anyone, we actually have standards -”

“Not true,” someone else whispers too loudly, as someone in the back row laughs loudly.

“I said I'd audition, didn't I?” Blaine tells the girl who's still staring at him. His eyes scan the small number of people in the room, finally landing on Freckles, who's looking back at him with something in between amusement and dislike in his eyes. “And I can guarantee you that you'll want me,” Blaine says in his direction, giving him a small grin.

Freckles rolls his eyes, then lowers his gaze to inspect his nails with a bored expression, a faint blush spreading on the pale skin of his cheeks the only sign that he's not completely unaffected.

Okay, Blaine thinks. He can't expect miracles. But he'll wear him down eventually.

Freckles' real name, Blaine learns quickly during his first glee rehearsal, is Kurt. And Kurt is not only gorgeous and innocently hot, he also has a really nice voice that he isn't afraid to use to put others in their place when they're being annoying.

Blaine decides that he likes him within ten minutes of watching him during rehearsal.

He doesn't really get any closer to him though – all of his advances, even the most innocent grins, are only ever met with a blush or averted eyes or with Kurt quickly turning away to focus on someone else. It's frustrating. It's also kind of exciting – the more he sees Kurt interacting with the people Blaine perceives to be his friends and compares that behavior to the way Kurt is with him, the more he comes to the conclusion that Kurt really is, in all probability, just extremely inexperienced. Innocent, maybe a bit of a prude with the way he rudely ignores Blaine … not shy, but – he obviously doesn't have a lot of practice at being flirted with.

Well. Blaine is not about to give up. At least he knows his first name already. And until he figures out the secret to Kurt Hummel, he does have more than enough distractions to keep him in a good mood.

** 

“Going over their notes” with Owen that night goes pretty much just as expected – since they're only two weeks into the school year, they're done with the notes in ten minutes. Thirty minutes into his visit to Owen's house Blaine finds himself naked, kneeling and bent over on his lab partner's bed, one hand clutching at the bars of the headboard that's banging rhythmically against the wall as Owen pants and moans above him. It doesn't take long – never does with the “straight” guys – but it's good. Blaine jerks himself off quickly as he feels Owen getting close, then collapses onto the mattress once it's over. Owen quickly rolls away from him, lies there breathing heavily with his eyes closed and his expression a mix between guilty and blissful.

Blaine gives himself a few minutes to let his body come down from the high of orgasm, sweat cooling on his skin in the dry air of his lab partner's bedroom. What the supposedly “straight” guys usually lack in stamina, they almost always make up for in enthusiasm. Blaine smiles, slides off the bed once his legs are working again and gets dressed quickly.

“See you at school,” he says to the panting, sweaty mess on the covers.

“Yeah, okay.” Owen doesn't open his eyes. “Thanks, man.”

“You're very welcome,” Blaine says with a grin, and slips out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house.

**

He falls asleep quickly once he's home, exhausted after a good night. The next morning, he's up early, before his alarm even, and he just lies awake for a while, trying to go back to sleep, but to no avail. He's just not tired anymore.

Giving up, he rolls out of bed, shuffles into the shower. Might as well get an early start if he's awake anyway. 

The house is still quiet and Blaine takes his time with his morning routine, stepping into the hot spray of the shower with a content little sigh, closing his eyes as he turns his face up to let the water wash over it and cascade down to his shoulders and chest, over his stomach to his dick that's still hanging limply, but slowly starting to stir as he feels himself fully waking.

He doesn't rush anything this morning – he has time and he intends to use it.

So he washes himself, cleans himself thoroughly, lets his skin soak and heat under the hot water, warmth creeping all the way down to his bones as he carefully washes his hair. He continues with his face, then his arms and chest, and finally, finally he lets his hands wander lower, lower, to where he's half-hard and quickly growing harder now.

He grabs himself loosely in one hand, keeps it to light strokes, revels in the feeling of slowly building arousal as he swells to full hardness in his hand.

Once he's started, it doesn't take long before his breath is coming quicker, heavier, a familiar, delicious ache settling in his groin, the need for more tingling under his skin and making him slap his free hand against the tiles of the shower wall as he hunches over himself. Everything is always so sensitive in the morning, nerve-endings firing jolts of _more_ and _too much_ all the way to his fingertips and it feels so good, so good … His hand works faster on his dick; he knows himself, knows what he likes, what he needs.

As he grips himself tighter, adding that little flick of his wrist on each upstroke, his eyes squeeze shut and a face flashes through his mind – carefully styled brown hair, blue eyes, a disdainful smirk mixed with an adorable, almost shy blush. Freckles. _Kurt_.

Blaine curses under his breath, hand flying over his now aching cock, knees almost buckling as his pleasure spikes higher and higher.

Dammit, he can hear his voice, he can _hear_ it, and yet he wants to know what he sounds like when he's breathless, when he's moaning, panting, gasping because of Blaine, because of all the things they can do together, all the things Blaine can _show_ him, all the ways he can make him feel good, make him feel how good it feels to give each other this kind of toe-curling, overwhelming pleasure -

The orgasm hits him hard and he moans low in his throat, fingers curling against the cool, unforgiving tile as long spurts of come coat the clean shower wall.

His legs do almost give out as he jerks himself through it, every muscle in his body spasming with the sudden crest of white-hot pleasure.

He manages to hold himself up until he's done coming, then slowly lowers himself onto the shower floor, water running lukewarm over his body, aftershocks running in trembling sparks under his skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, slumping back against the tile.

It's been months since he's jerked off that intensely in the shower.

Maybe it's because he's had a good week. But he doesn't think so. It's probably because of Freckles. _Kurt_. And that fucking adorable way he blushes so sweetly all the time and the way he's so damn unaffected by anything Blaine tries and the way he clearly despises him, _fuck_. He makes it more than obvious what he thinks of Blaine by simply ignoring him.

Feeling just the tiniest but guilty, Blaine starts to scramble back to his feet to clean off any remnants of his morning activities. He's looking forward to school, and to trying again. Because if this was just the fantasy, he simply has to find out what the real thing is like with Freckles, if he has any chance at all. He's determined to keep trying. Because he gets a feeling that it might be _incredibly_ worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

He arrives a few minutes early to his history class, pleased to see that Freckles is already there and sitting in the back row, as usual. Blaine grins to himself, makes his way slowly across the room to slip into the seat next to him, which he knows is unoccupied.

They're the only ones there already, and Freckles makes it a point to look everywhere but at him, that adorable blush already back on his cheeks as Blaine keeps staring at him.

“Good morning,” Blaine finally tries.

Kurt's eyes flicker over to him, a slightly disbelieving look on his face.

“Sleep well?” Blaine asks, reclining in his chair, smile widening.

Kurt huffs. “I don't see how that's any of your business.”

“Any exciting weekend plans?” Blaine continues, not letting the rejection bother him.

Kurt just turns his head away again, staring down at his desk.

“Because,” Blaine says, “I was just thinking. All my plans fell through and I -”

“Yeah, I bet they did,” Kurt snorts, shaking his head before looking back at him. “Look, I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work, okay?” he says, voice firm.

“What am I trying to do?” Blaine teases. “I'm just trying to make conversation.”

“Right,” Kurt says, turning away and blatantly ignoring Blaine's stares until the rest of the students start trickling into the room and first period begins.

**

He finds him by his locker between third and fourth period, walks right up to him to lean against the locker next to his. “I like your pants,” he tries.

Kurt looks up at him, rolls his eyes, slams his own locker shut and walks away.

Blaine shakes his head, watching him disappear down the hall as he winds his way through a crowd of students. This is not going well.

**

During lunch, he sees Kurt sitting with the rest of the glee club, and without even thinking too much about it, simply walks over there, two of the guys immediately scooting over on the bench to make room for him.

“Thanks,” he says, sitting down, trying to catch Kurt's gaze across the table.

Kurt very pointedly does not look at him, instead keeps talking to one of the girls by his side. The annoying short one, out of all of them. Blaine sighs, focuses on his lunch instead. He's not done trying.

**

“Hey.” He runs after Kurt once he leaves the dining hall, catching up with him just at the beginning of the hallway.

“What now?” Kurt asks, exasperatedly.

Blaine smiles at him, shrugging his shoulders. “I just wanted to let you know,” he says, “I really do like your pants. That wasn't just a line earlier.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever.”

Blaine takes a step closer, smile widening. “I was hoping we could maybe start over, I mean I -”

“No,” Kurt interrupts, blushing, hiking his bag higher on his shoulder and turning away. “I have to go, sorry.”

Blaine sighs, starting to feel a little frustrated.

**

He keeps trying over the next few days, sits next to Kurt in glee club and all the classes they have together, slips him little notes, even offers to buy him lunch once, an offer that is received with an incredulous stare and Kurt simply walking away.

No matter what he tries, he's not getting anywhere with Kurt. Except that after a few days, he starts noticing Kurt looking at him, whenever his own attention is elsewhere. It happens in class, in the hallways, at lunch. Blaine talks to someone, looks up, and there's Kurt looking at him with a strange expression on his face, blushing and looking away as soon as Blaine catches him, as if he's done something wrong. And Blaine doesn't know how to let him know – he's definitely allowed to look. Hell, Blaine has been looking back at him quite a lot himself.

So it's not that Freckles isn't interested, he thinks. It's probably just the way he first assumed – it's probably just that damn innocence. He probably just doesn't really know what to do with all the attention. Well. With the way he looks, Blaine is a little surprised at that, as well as the fact that he's so very obviously an inexperienced little virgin. But then maybe he's just not interested in sex? Or maybe not interested in Blaine, but then why does he keep staring?

Anyway, by the next Friday night, Blaine is frustrated enough to accept Trent's invitation to spend the weekend at his house, since Trent apparently has an exchange student named Olivier currently living with him. And since Trent has pointed out to him that Olivier is definitely very gay and very much looking for a bit of companionship, Blaine decides that he can give up his weekend in the spirit of – deepening international relations.

**

He goes back to school on Monday in a significantly better mood and with a few French curse words and endearments added to his vocabulary. He thinks maybe he can teach them to Kurt at some point, who is kind of disgustingly good at French.

Kurt is by his locker again, looking as perfect and as untouchable as ever. Blaine walks right up to him, smiling widely as Kurt just gives him a brief look before sighing and going on ignoring him.

“Hi,” Blaine greets. “Did you have a good weekend? Did you do something with your hair? It looks different.”

“That's called a haircut, Blaine,” Kurt informs him.

Blaine grins. “I like it. Looks good.”

“Well, I am ever so glad you approve, I don't know what I'd do with myself otherwise.” Kurt closes the door to his locker forcefully, stuffing a book into his bag and turning away.

“Hey, wait.” Blaine touches his shoulder, quickly withdrawing his hands as Kurt flinches. “Sorry, sorry.”

“What do you want?” Kurt hisses.

Blaine holds up his hands in what he hopes is a calming gesture. “I was just gonna say that you look cute today. Sorry.”

Kurt blinks, flustered for a moment before regaining his composure and rolling his eyes, even though he can't stop the blush already spreading over his cheeks. “I have to go,” he says, _again_ , hurrying away before Blaine can stop him.

And honestly, maybe he should just give up already, Blaine thinks. But somehow, he just can't do that. He always wants to be wanted – and somehow it's essential that Kurt wants him too. It's the fun of facing a challenge, he tells himself. Honestly. That's all it is.


	4. Chapter 4

Through the following weeks, Kurt continues to keep his distance, doesn't seem any more inclined to fall for Blaine's charms even when Blaine significantly turns up the flirting and innuendo. Blaine doesn't understand – he's been rejected before, but Kurt never actually does outright reject him. It's like he doesn't even understand what it is that Blaine wants from him, and to be quite honest, the thought drives Blaine just the tiniest bit crazy, makes him want Kurt even more.

He can't help but think of him when he's by himself, the mental image of Kurt's pale, untouched skin under his hands, Kurt's blush deepening when Blaine uncovers all of him, his sighs when Blaine introduces him to all the pleasure two bodies can share … These days, nothing gets him off harder when he masturbates, which he's taken to doing a _lot_.

There's an afternoon when Blaine stays behind at school to let Danny from the baseball team suck him off in a janitor's closet, and when they emerge after Blaine has thanked him with a hurried handjob, he pretty much runs right into Kurt who blushes dark red at seeing the two of them together, averting his eyes and hurrying off down the hallway and toward the exit.

Blaine stares after him with a smirk. Kurt had obviously understood what was going on, or at least guessed at it – the only thing Blaine can't tell from his reaction is whether he's disgusted or simply uncomfortable with the idea of casual sex. Or sex in general. Which is still an option to be considered. He wishes Kurt would just _tell_ him.

Anyway, Danny from the baseball team apparently tells his friend Carlos about Blaine, which means that two weeks later Blaine has a “date” on Saturday afternoon, and seriously, Blaine is so thankful for all those parents of hot gay boys who decide to take spontaneous weekend trips which result in leaving their gay sons with an empty house all to themselves. They fuck against the wall by the front door and on the living room carpet and Blaine goes home that night feeling full of energy and ready to enjoy the rest of his weekend despite the fact that he still has homework left to do.

The next week in glee club, Mr Home Perm informs them that they're going to be singing duets and to choose their own partners to sing with, and Blaine sees his chance and takes it.

“I'll sing with Kurt,” he announces loudly.

Kurt stares at him, eyes wide and disbelieving. “Um. No. Actually.”

“Why not?” Blaine asks. “Come on. I think our voices will go really good together.”

“But I-” Kurt starts, shaking his head. “That's just really not a good idea, okay?” He seems suddenly nervous, and Blaine is about to retreat – he doesn't want to make Kurt uncomfortable – when Mr Butt Chin speaks up from the front of the room again.

“Actually, Kurt, that sounds like a really good idea; you always pair up with Mercedes. You might want to change it up a bit.”

Kurt sighs, rolling his eyes, not looking happy at all. “ _Fine_ ,” he spits. “Whatever.”

Blaine opens his mouth, not sure what to say, almost wishing he could take it back. But Kurt glares at him, getting up from his seat, motioning for Blaine to follow him across the room. “Let's get started on song selection then, if we must. Okay? Get this over with as quickly as possible.”

Blaine nods, trying to keep his usual grin in check. He honestly doesn't want to piss Kurt off or corner him, that's not his style. But maybe this way he can convince him that he's not actually an asshole.

**

Blaine can't quite believe his luck when Kurt agrees to come over to his house that Thursday afternoon to practice their duet. He's quite sure that Kurt actually means it purely as a rehearsal date, but whatever, at least he's talking to him now. Sort of.

Blaine drives home after school, Kurt following in his own car, and Blaine can't deny the fact that he's excited. Usually he makes it a point not to invite guys over to his house, he prefers going to their places so he can leave once they're done. But since he's ninety-eight percent sure that no clothes will come off this afternoon, he decides to make an exception for Kurt. This is progress, this is absolutely awesome, and he has to be careful not to bounce in his seat the entire car ride home. He'll win Kurt over eventually. Which means he'll get to have sex with him. And maybe then they can become friends. He thinks he might like that.

It's worked before – Jeff and Nick are two of his closest friends and he's fucked them both, and he's been hanging out a lot with Keenan lately, his first McKinley handjob. They're actually becoming pretty good friends, and they'd actually fucked again a few weeks ago which is something Blaine hasn't done very often – sleep with the same guy twice. But there's no danger of it happening a third time now, since Blaine had set Keenan up with Danny from the baseball team shortly after their encounter in the janitor's closet, and apparently they're very happy. Blaine smiles to himself. He likes making people happy.

All hopes of striking up a friendship with Kurt pretty much vanish once they pull up to Blaine's house and Kurt slides out of his car, gripping the strap of his book bag tightly, lips pressed together as he gives an impatient, nervous nod towards Blaine's front door. “Let's just get this done already.”

Blaine sighs, leads the way inside and up the stairs to his room. His parents are still at work so the house is quiet, the only sounds coming from their socked feet on the hardwood floors and their quiet breathing as they enter Blaine's room, Kurt dropping his bag by the door and looking around with one eyebrow raised disdainfully.

“I thought we could just go through my iTunes and -” Blaine starts.

“I've already made a list,” Kurt informs him, bending down to fish a piece of paper out of his book bag and fuck, he's really not aware of how hot he is, is he?

Blaine stares appreciatively as the material of Kurt's jeans stretches tightly across his amazing ass.

Kurt raises himself to his full height again, list in his hand, eyes full of something Blaine can't identify. “Please don't do that,” he says, quietly.

Blaine looks back at him. “Don't do what?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Don't look at me like that.”

“But why not?” Blaine asks. “I mean, you're hot. You must know how hot you are. I just – happen to appreciate that fact.”

“I don't want you to appreciate anything,” Kurt informs him, blushing and looking away. “I just want to practice our duet.”

Blaine shrugs. “Fine. We can do that. I just -” he takes a breath, meets Kurt's eyes. “I've seen you looking too, you know?” he tells him. “Don't pretend you haven't. I mean, if you tell me to back off, I will, but hey, if you're interested -”

“Interested in _what_?” Kurt asks, too loudly, voice sharp. “I know what you're doing all over school Blaine.” A flush spreads across his cheeks and his eyes flutter away from Blaine. “You're not exactly subtle.”

Blaine takes a step closer, grinning challengingly. “I don't care about subtle,” he tells Kurt. “I'm just having fun.”

“Fun,” Kurt echoes, blush deepening. “Oh my god, Blaine, you're -”

“I know what I want,” Blaine continues, lifting a hand to carefully brush it down Kurt's arm. “And you're doing things to me, Kurt. The way you look – Are you honestly surprised that I want you? Do you even own a mirror? You're just so fucking hot, okay? I mean, your ass, and you arms, and god Kurt those damn freckles, I just can't -”

“Don't,” Kurt whispers, but doesn't step back, doesn't retreat.

“I'll back off,” Blaine promises, touching Kurt's arm again. “But I'll just – leave the offer open, all right? Whenever you change your mind. You know where to find me. I won't change my mind. I think we could have a great time together, there are things I could show you, I could -”

“Shut up,” Kurt hisses, grabbing Blaine's wrist tightly, plucking Blaine's hand from where it's still resting on his arm. He doesn't let go though, instead lifts his head so his eyes meet Blaine, and there's fire in them, pupils blown wide as he stares at his face. “Just shut your fucking mouth,” he says, voice low and shaking a little as his fingers dig almost painfully into the bone of Blaine's wrist.

“What -” Blaine starts, but Kurt just takes a step closer, yanks him forward forcefully so that Blaine stumbles against him, a low growl escaping his throat.

“I said shut up,” he repeats, before his other hands grabs fistfuls of Blaine's curls, pulling him in for a rough, messy kiss.

Blaine gasps into it, unprepared but very willing, opens his mouth under Kurt's insistent lips, moans when Kurt's tongue slips inside, kissing deeper, harder, with a hunger behind it that makes Blaine's knees buckle.

When they finally pull apart, Blaine feels lightheaded, all the blood rushing from his head in the direction of groin, his rapidly hardening cock straining painfully against the zipper of his pants. All he can do is breathe heavily, staring at Kurt in surprise. “What -”

Kurt looks absolutely sinful – lips wet and swollen, bright splotches on his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked. “God, Blaine,” he gasps. “I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking -”

“You didn't have to stop,” Blaine answers, and he can't stop his voice from coming out quiet, shaky, already undone. Fuck, he's had dreams about this. He'd been the one grabbing onto Kurt in those dreams, but this is – well, it's certainly intriguing in a way that makes him tremble with sudden arousal. “Please, can we just -”

Kurt bites his lip, lowers his eyes for a moment, something hardening, tightening in his expression. When he looks back at Blaine, he looks _wild_. “Get on the bed,” he commands, giving Blaine a firm push. “And lose the pants.”

Blaine feels all the air leave his lungs, heart beating hard against his ribcage. “Fuck,” he whispers, hand flying to the button and zipper of his pants to get the clothes out of the way as he stumbles his way over to the bed, Kurt following close behind to push him down on his back onto the mattress as soon as Blaine has shoved his jeans down over his ass.

Kurt crawls on top of him, Blaine's legs still hanging off the edge of the bed, and dives in for another messy kiss. “Is this what you wanted?” Kurt whispers in between kisses, lowering his hips to rub himself against Blaine's underwear-clad erection.

“Yes, fuck,” Blaine breathes, trying to reach for Kurt, who catches his wrists, pinning them to the mattress on either side of Blaine's head, and god this is new, no one has ever – Kurt is on top of him and he's rubbing against him and he's holding him down and it's – it's good, fuck, but he doesn't understand and Kurt is new to this and he doesn't want this to be over too quickly - “I just – fuck, I mean, I want to -”

Kurt leans down, gently bites Blaine's bottom lip. “You've made it pretty clear what you want,” he says. “Over and over. For several weeks now. I know.” He sits up again, grinding down against Blaine, eyes fluttering shut as he starts to lose himself to pleasure and fuck, Blaine can't look away, there's such a sweetly surprised innocence to Kurt's expression as his arousal builds. He's taking what he wants, finally giving in to the needs of his body and it's the hottest thing Blaine has ever seen. It's probably not going to last long, but maybe they can go again later before Kurt leaves and he can -

“Condoms,” Kurt gasps, hips snapping forward hard.

Blaine bucks up against him, gasping. “What?”

“Condoms,” Kurt repeats. “Do you have any?”

“Why?” Blaine whines, dick throbbing, and fuck he needs to get Kurt's pants off...

“So I can fuck you,” Kurt explains, a little breathless but his voice firm.

Blaine makes a strangled noise, arousal peaking sharply through his body, muscles clenching as he slumps back against the bed, squirming away from Kurt to keep from coming right there and then.

Because oh god the day just took a turn for the _absolutely fucking amazing_. “Nightstand, top drawer,” he manages, holding back a whining sound as Kurt scrambles off of him to get what they need. He has a feeling that Kurt is not done surprising him just yet.


	5. Chapter 5

It takes a few seconds before Kurt is back, dropping a bottle of lube and a condom on the covers, and then tugging and shoving Blaine up the bed until his legs are no longer dangling over the edge. He settles between his thighs once he's pleased with their arrangement, blushing a little as he looks down at Blaine.

“Hey,” Blaine says, using the fact that his hands are free to reach for Kurt, pulling at his arms to try and tug him down into another kiss. “Come here, just -”

“No.” Kurt shakes off Blaine's hands, exhales shakily before grabbing onto the edges of his own shirt, taking it off in one swift motion. “Get naked,” he tells Blaine as his hands go for his fly. Blaine doesn't even think about it, just takes off his t-shirt and then his briefs, lying in front of Kurt completely bare, watching him struggling out of his pants with a breathless anticipation he hasn't felt in a while.

Kurt is not like the other guys he'd fucked – he's not hesitant, and yet he's not overly enthusiastic. He's determined, bossy, but at the same time with that shy little flicker in his eyes, and Blaine trembles as he watches him. For the first time in his life he feels like he has no idea what's going to happen.

Once he's naked too, Kurt crawls back between Blaine's thighs, looking down at him, eyes dark and almost angry-looking. “Okay,” he says simply, as if to convince himself of something, grabbing for the lube beside Blaine's hip. “Okay.” And then Blaine feels his thighs being shoved further apart, feels insistent fingers press down against him, and he gasps loudly, squeezes his eyes shut as Kurt starts with two fingers immediately, pushing in and in and in until all Blaine can feel is him. It feels amazing.

“Fuck -” he curses as Kurt drags his fingers over his prostate on the way out, back arching into the sensation. “Fuck, oh _fuck_ do that again -”

Kurt's free hand grips Blaine's thigh, fingers digging into the flesh hard as he thrusts his fingers back in, adding a third already and fuck that burns, but it's good, so good...

“Don't you ever shut up?” Kurt hisses, working his way inside him, opening him wider.

“Feels so good,” Blaine moans, “Kurt, please -”

“God, you fucking need this, don't you?” Kurt asks, voice rough. “This is what you were pushing for this entire time. Just wanna get fucked, don't you?”

“Yes,” Blaine whines, lifting up to get Kurt's fingers deeper, hungry for it. “Yes, yes, please fuck me -”

“You're just so -” Kurt breaks off, pulling his fingers out of Blaine's ass and wiping the lube off on the sheets before reaching for the condom. “Turn over. Now. Go on.”

Blaine blinks up at him, and oh, Kurt is flushed, sweat beading at his temples, and his cock is long and thick and hard and jutting out from between his legs and he squirms a little under Blaine's gaze, jaw clenching as he stares back defiantly. His arms lift up as if to cover his bare chest before he drops them again, huffing out a breath. “You wanted this,” he tells Blaine again, voice wavering just a little. “So roll over already.”

“Can't we – like this?” Blaine asks, because seriously, Kurt already looks like the hottest piece of art, he really wants to see his face when he comes.

Kurt averts his eyes, shaking his head before tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth. He hesitates for a second under Blaine's insistent stare, fingers a little uncertain, unpracticed, but he bats Blaine's hand away as he tries to help. “No,” he insists. “Just turn over.” He doesn't look at Blaine, Slightly hunched over as if he's trying to make himself smaller, self-conscious as he finally rolls the condom onto his dick and lubes himself up.

“But, Kurt -”

“Turn around,” Kurt snaps suddenly, loudly, and Blaine is on his stomach before he really knows what he's doing.

Before he can even think about it, Kurt is climbing on top of him, strong hands bracing against Blaine's back, pressing him further into the mattress. And then something large and blunt presses against him, into him, and he sucks in a sharp breath as Kurt starts pushing inside.

He's still tight and Kurt is big and doesn't go slow and Blaine lies there pinned to the mattress and just takes it, takes all of Kurt as he sinks into him until his balls are pressed against Blaine's ass.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Blaine gasps, fingers curling into the sheets, back arching. “Oh god -”

“Oh my god,” Kurt pants on top of him, cursing and moaning as Blaine flutters and adjusts around him. “Oh that feels – fuck.”

“Kurt -” Blaine starts, lifting his head, wanting to say something, anything, not even knowing what, but Kurt cuts him off, pressing him back down into the covers with a hand between his shoulder blades as his hips snap forward hard.

“What?”

“I – hahhh,” Blaine supplies eloquently, cheek pressed into his pillow, Kurt's hands holding him down, Kurt's dick stretching him to the limit.

“You've wanted this,” Kurt says, voice low and raspy. “Like this? Did you -” he gasps as he starts rocking forward rhythmically, setting a fast, relentless rhythm from the start. “Did you want to sing with me just so I'd come here and fuck you?”

Blaine feels his eyes squeeze shut, body rolling with the movements of Kurt's hips. “N-no,” he stutters, every thrust sending a new wave of intense heat up his body. “I mean, I – I wanted you -”

“You wanted my dick,” Kurt says, nails digging into the skin of Blaine's back as he pulls out almost all the way, ramming back inside with enough force to make Blaine slide up against the sheets. He repeats the motion, driving into him roughly again, again, again, and Blaine feels his mouth fall open around a silent scream, slams a hand up against the headboard to stop himself from being pushed further up the bed.

“Fuck, yes,” he gasps, a loud moan escaping a throat as Kurt keeps up the long, hard thrusts, his balls slapping against Blaine's ass with every push in. “ _Yes_ -”

“I there anyone left at our school who hasn't fucked you yet?” Kurt asks, breathless, and the words send a spike of heat to Blaine's gut, dick throbbing where it's wedged between his body and the sheets. “God, I'm just a fucking notch in your bedpost to you, and you still just want my cock so badly, don't you? You need it. Say it.”

He's fucking into him faster now, shorter thrusts but no less forceful, and he bends down a little, sliding an arm under Blaine's chest and almost lifting his torso off the bed as he holds on tight for better leverage.

“I need it,” Blaine moans, every exhale turning into a whimper as Kurt redoubles his efforts, pounding into him harder, harder - “Kurt, please -” he begs, wanting more even though he already feels him everywhere, there's nothing but Kurt and the way he makes him feel. He feels completely at his mercy and god he'd give him everything, everything Kurt wants as long as he never stops fucking him like this.

“Just fucking take it,” Kurt growls, biting down on his shoulder as his hips stutter, rhythm faltering just a little and Blaine knows he's close.

“Oh shit, fuck,” he whimpers. “God, _more_ – need more -”

Kurt withdraws his arm from around Blaine, instead lifts himself up to brace his hands against Blaine's shoulders, changing the angle of his thrusts. “Fuck, you're so greedy,” he breathes. “So tight, fuck -”

With the new angle, his cock hits Blaine's prostate almost perfectly, Blaine's dick rubbing against the mattress as Kurt fucks him hard and relentless. Every nerve ending in his body is on fire and he doesn't do this, he has never done this, he doesn't give up control in bed, not like this.

But his cock is so swollen, so hard it aches, his balls drawn up tight, pressure heavy and too much at the base of his spine and all of his muscles cramping, seizing up as he feels his orgasm approaching. And he knows he'd let Kurt do absolutely anything to him, all he wants is to be good for him, make this good for him, all he wants is for Kurt to come in his ass and let him come too.

He's never been fucked like this before, he's never wanted it this rough, but he wishes it could last forever, nothing has ever felt better.

“Come on,” Kurt growls, pounding into him with an unrelenting, controlled forcefulness that makes Blaine tremble and curse and whine and whimper until the whole world explodes into a shock wave of white-hot, overwhelming pleasure.

He comes so fucking hard that he screams, fingers and toes curling inward, every muscle in his body seizing up as his come soaks into the sheets, his ass clenching hard around Kurt who's still fucking him through it, not letting up for a second.

The orgasm doesn't seem to stop, he just comes and comes and comes, electric jolts of scorching ecstatic bliss shocking through him again and again.

And even as the waves finally start ebbing away, Kurt is still fucking him, rocking and thrusting into Blaine's sore, oversensitive ass until he finally digs his nails into Blaine's skin, pushing in hard one more time before he comes with a broken-sounding, quiet moan that pierces straight through Blaine's gut, making his spent cock twitch painfully against the sheets.

**

By the time he comes back to himself, Kurt has rolled away, his panting breaths loud next to Blaine where he's lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with an unreadable expression on his face.

Blaine tries to lift up to roll onto his side, wincing a little as he feels the bedsheets glued to his stomach by drying come. “Hey,” he says, attempting a grin. God, he feels awesome, orgasm-heavy and fucked out and _used_ and tingling all over.

Kurt doesn't respond, just presses his lips together tightly.

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks.

Kurt gives him a short look, sighs. “Fine. I'm fine. Are you -” he gestures toward Blaine, a questioning look in his eyes, and even the brief flicker of concern makes Blaine's stomach flip pleasantly.

“I'm great,” Blaine tells him truthfully. “Absolutely great.”

“Good,” Kurt says, looks away again. “Good.”

And Blaine lies back down, content to just enjoy the afterglow for a while before they have to get back to work on their duet.


	6. Chapter 6

“I should go,” Kurt says a minute later, shuffling closer to the end of the bed.

Blaine reaches out a hand, lightly touching his arm, a spark of something desperate and needy in his gut, and yeah, that's definitely new. “No, wait,” he says.

Kurt looks at him. “You got what you wanted, Blaine. What else is there?”

Blaine blinks, not sure what to say. He feels – amazing, energized and lazy at the same time, so completely comfortable. And usually he's the one careful not to stick around too long after sex, but – oh fuck it, he decides. Why question something that feels right? “You can't go,” he explains. “We should practice!”

“Haven't we done enough practicing?” Kurt asks, a wry grin on his face.

Blaine grins back at him. “I meant for our duet, you dumbass. And also, what we just did? I wouldn't call that practicing. I mean, _wow_. Are you sure you haven't done this before?”

Kurt snorts, something hardening in his eyes as he looks at Blaine. “I was hardly a virgin before, Blaine. Did you think that I was? Was that the point of all this?”

“No! What?” Blaine props himself up on one elbow, ass throbbing as he moves. “Wait, what? I thought -”

“Yeah, I know what you thought,” Kurt cuts him off. “Did you honestly believe I'd want my first time to be with _you_?” He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at him before he sits up quickly. “We can see if we get the auditorium for an hour or so sometime tomorrow to practice our duet. I think right now I should probably leave.”

Blaine bites his lip, wanting to say something, anything, to change his mind, make him stay. Maybe there's even a round two in it for them if they just take a little break, focus on their assignment for a couple hours. But clingy isn't his style and maybe Kurt is right, maybe they actually should postpone the singing until the next day. “Okay,” he says.

Kurt very pointedly doesn't look at him, instead grabs for his discarded briefs that had ended up at the foot of the bed. “Okay,” he echoes, voice flat.

He gets dressed in record time, not even stopping to fix his hair before he crosses the room, picks up his book bag from Blaine's floor. Something is off, something isn't right, but Blaine can't put his finger on what it is, so he keeps quiet. Their encounter had been intense enough, no point in complicating everything with talking.

“I guess I'll see you at school,” Kurt says, fully dressed and one hand on the doorknob by the time Blaine has just managed to sit up all the way.

“Yeah,” Blaine answers. “Oh, and Kurt?”

Kurt hesitates, looking back at him with his eyebrows raised, an almost nervous expression on his face. “What?”

“Thank you,” Blaine says, and means it.

Kurt lets out a short laugh. “Right.” He shrugs, blushing even after everything they'd just done. “Don't mention it. And that's not a figure of speech. Please. Do not mention it. To anyone. I don't want anyone to know about this, okay?”

Blaine looks at him, confused, because there's shy little prudish Kurt again, and is this seriously the same guy who just made him come his fucking brains out? But okay, he thinks, who's he to judge. “Sure,” he promises. “It'll be our little secret.” He winks at Kurt, hoping to put him at ease just a little bit.

Kurt flickers something resembling a disdainful smile in his direction, blushes again, and leaves.

Blaine lets himself fall back against the bed and sighs, lets his arms spread out to the sides and stretches his legs. God, he's already so sore, walking and sitting will be – interesting, tomorrow. But fuck, so worth it. He's still not quite sure what happened, but he'd loved every second of it.

**

The next day at school, Kurt is even more distant than usual – and it's not a problem, it's not like Blaine hasn't encountered the same thing before. It happens, it's happened a number of times, and that's okay. Sometimes, once the fucking is over and done with, some guys prefer pretending like they don't even know him. He's not looking for friendships with his hook ups. But Kurt is a nice guy and he'd hoped they could be friends like he's friends with Nick and Jeff and Keenan, but instead Kurt avoids him all day, blushes when Blaine tries to talk to him, alternating between acting painfully shy and hurtfully cold towards him.

And for the first time ever, it actually hurts Blaine's feelings, and he doesn't understand. He's never cared before. He doesn't want to care. He should just stop trying with Kurt; he'd gotten what he wanted. But he just can't stay away.

The thing is, he can still _feel_ him, his ass is spectacularly sore today and even the memory of Kurt's hands on his skin and Kurt's breath against his neck makes him shiver pleasantly and this has never happened before. It was a _fuck_. Nothing more. It was fun. He shouldn't be feeling like this, all mopey and depressed because Kurt is acting like most of the other guys he's had fun with and never spoken to again.

He shouldn't want to ask, “Did I do something wrong?” It shouldn't even be an issue. And yet, somehow, it's becoming one.

The revelation that Kurt wasn't as innocent as Blaine had thought him to be was unexpected, but everything makes even less sense because of it.

By the end of last period, Blaine is convinced that their duet for glee club is actually no longer happening. The auditorium is already booked by several other glee clubbers for the rest of the week and most of the next anyway, and Kurt hasn't made a move to approach him about different arrangements, so Blaine figures that this is it. And it's just as well, he tries telling himself. He wanted to have sex with Kurt. And he succeeded. Everything else he can do without. Walking out to the parking lot once he's done for the day, he's almost feeling normal again – he's probably just tired, that's why he's feeling so weird and unsettled.

So there's really no explanation for the strange little somersault his heart does in his chest as he sees Kurt standing next to his car.

He looks impeccable, gorgeous as ever, and Blaine grins against his better judgment. “Hi,” he calls out to him.

Kurt waits until Blaine is standing in front of him, knuckles turned white where he's grabbing onto the strap of his book bag. “The auditorium is booked solid, so we'll have to practice somewhere else,” he informs Blaine, no greeting, no answering smile.

Blaine feels his face fall, mentally kicks himself for being so fucking emotional, god, it was a fucking _fuck_ , even if it was a pretty good one. He doesn't understand himself anymore. “Oh,” he says, swallows down whatever else he'd like to say. “Right. My place?”

Kurt lowers his eyes, and Blaine can't help but let his eyes sweep over the freckles on his nose, his cheeks, the gentle curve of his mouth – dammit, what the fuck is wrong with him?

“N-no,” Kurt stutters. “No. Um. We can go to my place. You can just follow me in your car.”

Blaine nods. “Okay,” he agrees. “Cool.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, starts walking away to his own car. “Great.”

**

He knows he shouldn't, he knows he should stay focused on the task and stop thinking about yesterday, but he's in Kurt's bedroom, and he can't help it, it just makes him think. That this is the place where Kurt sleeps. The place where he's naked. The place where he jerks off.

Kurt hadn't been a virgin before their hook up – does that mean he's actually had sex in this room?

The wide-eyed stare Kurt gives him makes him realize he probably asked that last part out loud.

“Um,” Kurt says, holding his eyes even though he's obviously uncomfortable. “I don't really see how that's any of your business.”

Blaine tilts his head at him. “Aw, come on Kurt. Just twenty-four hours ago you were in my bedroom fucking me six ways from Sunday, there's no need to by shy now.”

“I am not being anything, I just really think that it's none of your business,” Kurt explains, voice cold. “Now, do you want to split the verses or should we -”

“Who was he?” Blaine asks, unable to let it go now that they're talking about it. Or, well, now that he's started asking with Kurt refusing to tell him anything.

“You don't know him,” Kurt says. “So, about the song, I think I should -”

“Were you dating? Was he older? Oh my god, was it someone embarrassing? Someone forbidden? Don't tell me you had an affair with a teacher! Kurt, you dirty little -”

“What does it take to shut you up?” Kurt snaps, glaring at him. “God, why did I ever agree to working with you?”

“Because you can't resist me,” Blaine answers, smirking. “I mean, I can still _feel_ you, god, you really gave it to me good, I just want to know where you learned it all.” He shuffles closer to him where they're sitting on the floor, running a finger down Kurt's bicep. “Just want to know how you -”

“You don't know him, and you'll never meet him,” Kurt cuts him off sharply, shaking off Blaine's hand. “So if your plan is to go find him and make him another one of your conquests, you're out of luck unless you want to go all the way to Oregon.”

“So he moved away?” Blaine asks. “Ohh, is it a tragic love story? I love those!” He doesn't even know why he keeps pushing, knows he's being an asshole, but at least Kurt is finally reacting after giving him the cold shoulder all day. And maybe if he keeps pushing hard enough … who knows what will happen.

Kurt sighs exasperatedly, throws his hands up angrily. “Fine. He was my boyfriend, his name was Elliott, he was perfect, and he loved me. And his dad got a job in Portland, so he left. Are you happy now?”

Blaine leans in closer. “Did you love him back?” he asks, torn between genuine curiosity and a white-hot feeling of something wild and possessive that makes him reckless. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Except that it can't be.

“If you don't want to work on our duet, you should just leave,” Kurt says, and the look he gives him is icy. “Seriously. Don't feel obligated to hang around.”

“I'm here because I want to be,” Blaine tells him. “I think we've proven that we're very – compatible.” He knows he should stop now, but he can't help it, he just feels – out of control, he needs to keep going, he needs to get _something_ out of Kurt. Even his anger is better than that fucking silent treatment he'd received before.

“Blaine, yesterday was a one time thing,” Kurt insists. “I'm never going to sleep with you again. I shouldn't have done it at all.”

“Don't tell me you didn't enjoy yourself,” Blaine challenges. “Because it seemed like you were having a pretty good time, actually.”

“It was a mistake,” Kurt says.

“One you regret?” Blaine asks, heart speeding up as he realizes that maybe he doesn't even want to know the answer.

Kurt is silent for a moment. “Obviously,” he says eventually.

It's like a slap in the face – Blaine pulls back, swallowing heavily. “Oh.”

“Don't tell me you expected us to ride off into the sunset together.” Kurt shakes his head at him. “You're the one who sleeps his way through the entire student body and from what I've heard, even the faculty.”

“Hey, that's not true,” Blaine defends himself, even though technically he has once hooked up with a student teacher at Dalton and it had been one of the hottest experiences of his life. Not as hot as yesterday, but still.

“Anyway.” Kurt presses his lips together, just watching him for a moment, and Blaine can tell it's difficult for him to even get the words out. “I'm not – I don't do this, Blaine. I don't – I don't do hook ups.”

“Okay.” Blaine sighs, tries to ignore the irrational pain and sadness at Kurt's words. “Okay, that's – okay. I'm sorry if I made you do anything you didn't want to -”

“You didn't,” Kurt hurries to assure him. “That one was all me. I knew who you were and I shouldn't have – I'm sorry too.”

“You really have nothing to be sorry for,” Blaine says. “I just – can we be friends?”

Kurt gapes at him. “Um. Excuse me?”

“I'd like us to be friends,” Blaine repeats. “If that's at all possible. You're cool. And I promise I'm not really an asshole.”

“Where is this coming from?” Kurt asks. “God, how many personalities do you have?” He lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I don't get you, Blaine. At all. Sorry.”

“Yeah, I've heard that one before.” Blaine laughs. “So? What do you say? Would you like to hang out some time?”

“I don't know,” Kurt admits. “We've had sex.” And his cheeks still flush when he says it, and fuck that's just too adorable.

“So?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It's just too weird.”

Blaine hesitates, tries not to, but he has to ask. “Were you friends with your boyfriend?”

Kurt lowers his eyes, stares down at his hands that are folded in his lap. “That was different,” he says quietly. “He was different. With him I just felt – I'm sorry, Blaine. I can't.”

“Oh.” Blaine nods, doesn't know why this hurts so fucking much. “Yeah. I get that. Okay. That's fine. I guess we should – we should practice.”

“Are we okay?” Kurt asks, blinking up at him shyly, biting his lip.

“Yeah, of course,” Blaine tells him, putting on a smile. “Oh my god, of course. I mean, hey, whatever, you can't blame a guy for trying, right?”

Kurt twitches a smile at him and Blaine feels it twist in his chest like a fucking knife and, fuck, he has no idea what this boy with his stupid freckled face and stupid gorgeous arms has done to him.

But he already has an excellent idea how to get past it. He just needs to get through this duet first.


	7. Chapter 7

Nothing really changes at school even after their duet. They meet up one more time to practice and they pretty much nail it with their performance, and Blaine can't deny that he still enjoys any time spent with Kurt, even though it sucks that Kurt obviously wants nothing to do with him.

He'd figured that after their duet, he'd be able to just move on with his life, but he still can't stop looking at him, and he can't stop thinking about what it would be like if they got to do it all over again.

It's not like he's opposed to sleeping with the same guy more than once. It had just seemed easier. There are guys he's had sex with more than once, very few, but yes, they do exist. Kurt is just not going to be one of them. He's not even going to be one of the ones who stick around as friends. It bugs him. More than he cares to admit even to himself. Something is different about the way Kurt makes him feel, and he can't put his finger on it. He just knows that however done Kurt may be with him, he is definitely not done with Kurt.

So, because he's Blaine, he does what he always does – he keeps teasing. Flirting. Pushing. Because there must be a way to fix this, and what else is he supposed to do? At least Kurt acknowledges his existence every time he tells Blaine to get lost. And that's better than just going their separate ways. Or that's what he tries to tell himself. It's better than admitting defeat, however much trying may hurt.

But he already knows the only way to get past the hurt. He just hasn't had the opportunity yet. But Puck is throwing a party that weekend and Blaine knows that will be his chance. He just has to be patient. And in the meantime, he keeps doing what he does best.

“Your ass looks amazing in those pants,” he whispers to Kurt, brushing past him by the lockers. Kurt lowers his eyes and bites his lip.

They sit next to each other in history, and Blaine can't help but keep grinning at him whenever the teacher isn't looking, even though Kurt never turns his head, keeps staring toward the front of the room almost too intently. The muscle working in his jaw is the only indication that he's even noticing Blaine's glances and is obviously trying very hard not to snap at him.

Once last period ends, Blaine catches up to him in the hallways, running after him until he can fall in step next to him. “I thought the day would never end,” he says cheerfully.

Kurt ignores him.

“Any exciting plans for the afternoon?” he asks.

Kurt's eyes flicker in his direction, and he shakes his head once, more of an angry gesture than a reply as they exit the building side by side and walk toward the parking lot.

Blaine bumps their shoulders together playfully. “I was thinking of going to the Lima Bean -”

“Blaine!” Kurt stops in his tracks, turning around to him and yanking at Blaine's arm so they're face to face. “What the hell are you doing?”

Blaine shrugs. “Making conversation.”

Kurt sighs. “I thought we had agreed that this was a bad idea?”

“So?” Blaine tilts his head at him. “I changed my mind. And hey, we don't have to be friends to get coffee. I just appreciate a nice view and you're providing that. Feel free to ignore me the entire time.”

“I'm going home,” Kurt tells him shortly, spinning on his heels to start power-walking across the parking lot.

Blaine has to jog to keep up, Kurt's legs are longer than his, but he manages. “Can I come with?”

Kurt huffs out a breath, throwing back his head in exasperation. “No. Oh my god, are you for real?”

“You've seen me naked. You know the real me.”

“And that's the problem. That's exactly why I'm saying no.”

“Aw, come on.” Blaine reaches out to touch his shoulder, hoping to slow him down a bit. “I'll behave. Let's just – practice another duet.”

“What for?”

“Glee club, of course!”

Kurt laughs, an unexpected little laugh somewhere between surprised and amused, then bites his lip as he looks away. “Blaine, no. We both know what you really want here and I told you it's not gonna happen again.”

“I don't want anything,” Blaine swears, almost convincing himself it's the truth with how honest it comes out. “I promise!”

They reach Kurt's car, and Kurt clicks the locks open with the remote on his key, opens the driver's side door. “Goodbye, Blaine.”

“Just for an hour? I'll keep a distance of at least two feet at all times.”

“Goodbye. I'll see you in class on Monday.”

“Or maybe earlier than that!”

“Yeah. No.”

**

Puck's party on Saturday night is pretty much exactly what Blaine expected – loud and with a lot of beer and with a lot of people occasionally locking themselves in the upstairs bathroom in pairs of two, obviously getting it on in there.

It's pretty much what he's been looking forward to all week. And the best thing is, he doesn't even have to try very hard – he's been there no more than an hour and is just finishing his second beer when he notices the guy suddenly standing next to him, leaning back against the wall, seemingly bored, but watching him out of the corner of his eyes. He doesn't look away when Blaine grins at him.

His name is Tristan and he's actually a junior at college and just visiting Lima for the weekend. And within twenty minutes of meeting each other they slip into a bathroom together and lock the door behind themselves.

It's hurried but sort of hot, pants shoved down their thighs and hands on each other's cocks. Blaine squeezes his eyes shut as he comes, doesn't even try to muffle the moan ripping from his throat because everyone knows what's going on in here anyway.

The clean up is quick and efficient and they part with a smile, no need to keep hanging out now that this part of the night is taken care of.

He feels great for about fifteen minutes afterwards until the high of a quick fuck wears off and, all of a sudden, he doesn't anymore.

And it makes no fucking sense.

He's having a good night, he's had a decent orgasm with a really cute college guy, he should be drinking and dancing and maybe possibly find another cute guy to sneak away with or find Tristan again for round two. But all he wants is to go home.

So he does; drains the remains from his paper cup, tosses it away, and leaves.

Just a few days ago, he knows, he would have loved every minute of this night. But now, all he feels is empty. Like something is missing. And it's all wrong. It isn't supposed to be like this.

He has no idea what's going on with him, but he doesn't like it.

**

He spends Sunday in bed, watching things on his laptop, feeling a headache coming on. So he keeps the blinds drawn. His parents are home and his mom checks up on him several times, worried, but somewhat helpless as always.

“I think I'm coming down with something,” Blaine tells her.

She kisses his forehead and brings him tea.

On Monday, he's back at school. And he's determined to break out of this weird mood he's stuck in, to go and find something to amuse himself with. Maybe he can hang out with Puck, who is a really cool guy. Or maybe he'll get one of the girls from glee club to adopt him as gay best friend. He misses the solid circle of people he'd had at Dalton. He should really focus on making friends. Friends who want him around.

And yet the first person he finds himself seeking out is Kurt. “So,” he says, finding him next to his locker as always before first period. “I have thought about it, and we really should sing together again. You must admit that our voices do go great together.”

“And a good morning to you too, Blaine,” Kurt says, voice emotionless, rolling his eyes at him. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

Blaine looks at him, takes a breath, decides to take a real risk for once in his life. “No,” he says. “No, I did not.”

Kurt lowers the hand that's holding his book, annoyance fading from his face to be replaced with something – softer, a little insecure. “Oh.” He swallows. “I'm – sorry.”

“It's okay.”

“Are you sure?”

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“So will you sing with me?”

“What, because you had a bad weekend? Blaine, I -”

“No,” Blaine interrupts. “Just because – because. Just because. We sound good together. And it could be fun.”

“I've explained to you why I don't want that.”

Blaine sighs, lifts his shoulders in defeat. He'd known it was a long shot. “Fine,” he says, “Whatever. I'll find other friends. It's fine. Just -” he bites his lip, preparing for what he'd thought about saying all weekend. “I like you, okay? And I don't even mean like _that_. I just – I mean it. I really just want to hang out. I mean if that's all you're cool with. I''m cool with that too. It doesn't have to be more. I really just want – to spend time with you.”

Kurt opens and closes his mouth a few times, eyes darting around the hallway filled with students hurrying off to class, apparently more than a little uncomfortable about all of this.

“No, I get it,” Blaine says, when Kurt doesn't respond. “Forget I asked. I'll leave you alone. I'll try. I promise. I'm sorry.”

He turns to walk away, throat tight with a feeling of desperate loneliness he hasn't known in a while.

“Blaine,” Kurt calls out, loud enough for a few people to raise their heads and look their way.

Blaine turns slowly, making himself meet his eyes, hoping he doesn't look the way he feels right now.

Kurt swallows heavily a few times, hands nervously fraying the edges of his book as he blushes. “Did you have a song in mind?”

“Um.” Blaine blinks at him. “What?”

“A song,” Kurt repeats. “For our next duet.”

Hope flutters treacherously in Blaine's heart, and he tries to tamp it down, tries to breathe evenly. “No,” he admits. “Nothing specific. I have a few ideas, though.”

Kurt nods, lowering his gaze before blinking up at him from under his lashes. “Do you – uh. Would you maybe like to go over them during lunch today?”

Blaine can't help the wide smile that just spreads across his face. “You mean you'll sing with me?”

Kurt shrugs, his answering smile small and shy, but it's there. “Yeah, well. Our voices do kind of go together.”

“They're not the only things that sort of go together, or have you forgotten -”

“Blaine!” Kurt raises a hand to stop him from continuing. “You were doing so well. Don't ruin it.”

“I won't. Sorry.”

“So. See you at lunch?”

Blaine grins. “Or the Lima Bean after school?”

“Lunch,” Kurt insists. “Don't push it. Let's start small, okay?”

Blaine nods, watching him close his locker and walk away with a last smile in Blaine's direction.

So, it's not much. It's dining hall food. But hey, it is a start. He wonders what's happening to him that this puts him in a better mood than a good handjob at a great party. But then he decides to not question it and try to be on time for first period instead.

Lunch time cannot come quickly enough.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt patiently listens to Blaine's duet ideas over lunch and ends up rejecting every single one of them, which isn't all that surprising considering how he'd made most of them up on the spot. But at least they sit together and they talk and even though Kurt keeps a careful distance at all times, making sure they never so much as brush hands, the mere proximity to him calms Blaine in a way he doesn't care to analyze. He just sits there next to him, feeling him close by even without physical contact, and he feels better than he has in days.

“I guess we'll just have to keep looking for a good song,” Blaine tries when they have less than ten minutes of their lunch period left and Kurt starts gathering his things to leave.

Kurt's hands still on the edges of his lunch tray, hesitating, and Blaine feels himself hold his breath.

“I guess so,” Kurt finally says, shrugging.

And Blaine lets his shoulders drop in relief, beams at Kurt. “Same time tomorrow? We could meet back here.”

Kurt bites his lip, eyes fixed on the table top. “Fine.”

“Awesome.”

Blaine lets Kurt leave first, hangs back for a while to bask in the glow of success. He got Kurt to talk to him again. So, they're not friends yet or anything. But hey, this is one step closer than he'd been a week ago. And he can't deny it, he's happy. It feels good, being happy.

**

More people from glee club join them for lunch over the next few days, and Blaine thinks maybe Kurt asked them to so he wouldn't have to be alone with him, but he doesn't care. They're officially kind of sort of hanging out and he loves it.

And by the third lunch, they even manage to agree on a new song to sing together, which means they have to meet after school to practice eventually. Everything is just going really well and Blaine is careful, so careful to not screw it up.

He can't help watching Kurt, though, and he can't keep in the suggestive grins, and seriously, the flirting and innuendo just _happens_ , it's become second nature to him, he can't always stop himself quickly enough. But mostly Kurt just blushes and looks away, or sometimes glares at him when he goes too far. Blaine thinks it's all working out pretty well.

The only problem is that the more they hang out, the more he realizes how absolutely and devastatingly gorgeous Kurt is. Not that he hadn't known that before, but getting to know him, talking with him, seeing him laugh with his friends and sometimes with Blaine and learning what he's like when he's relaxed and carefree – it does something to him. It makes it even more difficult to not want him.

So he takes to covering up the accidental flirting with bad jokes, and spends the time he's not with Kurt and his friends trying to find someone else to let off some steam. But for the first time since he started having sex, he finds it difficult to find someone. Not because there's no one willing around. But because he sort of – isn't as interested as he used to be.

He drives over to Trent's house on Thursday afternoon with the secret intention of getting it on with French exchange student Olivier one more time, but once he's there, he just can't really find it in himself to go through with it. So instead, they hang out all afternoon, all three of them, and Blaine leaves feeling … relieved? He doesn't really get it. But he's had a good day, so he lets it go.

Friday at school Blaine books the auditorium for Kurt and himself for the following Tuesday afternoon, hoping Kurt will actually have time for him that day. Turns out, he does.

“So, you're serious about us singing together?” Kurt asks, sounding surprised when Blaine tells him about the auditorium over lunch on Friday. They're sitting with Tina and Mike, but since those two are kind of wrapped up in each other, their conversation is still relatively private.

“Of course,” Blaine assures him. “Did you think I wasn't?”

Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “Blaine, half of the time I don't know _what_ to think of you.”

“And the other half?” Blaine asks, smirking, turning in his seat so he can lean against the table to look at Kurt.

“Well the other half of the time I think you can actually be a really nice guy. When you want to be.”

Blaine lowers his eyes, something warm settling in his chest. “I always want to be a nice guy,” he admits. “I'm sorry if I'm not.”

“No – no.” Kurt shakes his head, briefly touches Blaine's arm, drawing back quickly once he notices what he's doing. “I didn't mean it like that. Just – sometimes you're -”

“I know.” Blaine sighs. “I know I'm coming on a little strong sometimes. I honestly mean it as a compliment.”

“Yeah, you'll have to work on that,” Kurt tells him. “Not everyone wants to be ogled all the time.”

“I didn't know I was doing that.”

“Honestly? You've been staring at me since the day we met. And sometimes – I don't want to be stared at. Don't you get that?”

Blaine thinks about it. “I just look because you're hot. You have to know how hot you are. It can't be surprising to you.”

Kurt shakes his head. “But that's not the point! Also, you kind of stare at everyone.”

“Because I think most people are hot. Or – beautiful, even. What's wrong with letting them know?”

“Nothing.” Kurt sighs. “It's just – couldn't you just like – tell people? Instead of trying to get them to sleep with you?”

“So you're saying that if I just _tell_ you that you have an amazing ass and a magnificent cock and that your freckles really turn me on, that would be okay?” he asks, playing dumb, knowing he's pushing it. He hopes they're comfortable enough with each other to allow this.

Kurt huffs out a breath, face red as he lowers his eyes. “Why do you have to make everything about sex?” he almost whispers.

“Because I honestly don't think that there's anything wrong with being attracted to people and wanting to make each other feel good,” he explains.

Kurt nods. “I get that. I'm just asking you to please respect that not everyone is that – open and casual about these things.”

“I get that too.” Blaine reaches out carefully, fingers sliding across the table top to nudge Kurt's softly. “I know I can be an obnoxious asshole. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be. And I promise that I'm working on it.”

Kurt smiles at him. “I know. I wouldn't be sitting here with you if I didn't.”

“But for the record,” Blaine adds, meeting Kurt's eyes, completely serious. “I really do think you're hot. And I really do think that you should know that. You're beautiful, Kurt. And not just on the outside.”

Kurt sucks in a sharp breath, eyes flitting across the room, checking that no one is listening before looking back at Blaine, shyly, tentatively. “Blaine?” he asks, voice quiet, the faintest tremble in it as he continues. “Why – me? I mean.” He shrugs his shoulders helplessly. “You've slept with pretty much every gay guy at this school and I bet a few of the straight ones too. Why – why are you sitting here with me, and not with one of them?”

Blaine feels his palms starting to sweat, heart hammering in his chest as he tries to come up with an explanation that will make sense to both of them. “Why not?” he deflects.

Kurt lets out a short laugh. “Because I haven't been very nice to you and I've made it clear that I didn't want anything to do with you. And you still – you're still here. Or is that it? Is it the chase?” He looks so scared in that moment, so fiercely determined, so brave.

Blaine can't lie to him. “No,” he says. “This has nothing to do with you turning me down. I actually feel like a jerk for still pushing even after you said -”

“Then why did you?”

“Because.” He shrugs. “You're – different.”

“I know that, believe me, everyone always reminds me of that fact.”

“No, not like that,” Blaine is quick to interrupt. “You're – I can't really say. I just really like hanging out with you. Is that good enough? For now?”

Kurt stares at him for a second, eyes still wide and apprehensive, but then the slowest, gentlest smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay,” Blaine says, staring down at his plate, heart still beating double time. His hands are shaking and he kind of feels like he's going to have a panic attack, but at least he'd been honest. He thinks Kurt is the type to appreciate honesty. “Just -” he pauses, glancing back up at Kurt for a second. “Let me know if I'm being a dick? Because I don't want to be.”

Kurt nudges their shoulders together, deliberate if fleeting physical contact that buzzes through Blaine's skin in a way that's familiar and so completely foreign. “You're not,” he says.

Blaine turns his attention back to his food and feels his heart rate slowly returning to normal.


	9. Chapter 9

“I didn't even know you could play piano,” Kurt says, sitting cross-legged on the auditorium floor, looking up at him as he tries out an arrangement for their song.

Blaine shrugs, fingers going still on the keys. “I don't play much anymore. But I kind of love it.”

“Then maybe you should play more.”

“Maybe.”

Kurt smiles, and Blaine has no choice but to smile back. Sometimes, it's so easy between them now. He wishes it could always be like this.

“I used to play a bit,” Kurt tells him. “Never as good as you, though.”

“I'm not _that_ good,” Blaine protests.

Kurt laughs. “Well, that probably means that I really suck.”

Blaine winks at him. “You can suck me any time, honey.”

Kurt's smile fades as he huffs out an angry breath. “Seriously?”

“Sorry.” Blaine bites his lip, kicking himself mentally. He just can't stop, can he? “I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well.” Kurt gets up off the floor, brushing off his pants. “We should get started. I have to be home in time for dinner, I promised my dad.”

Blaine sighs, nodding as he stares at his hands. He wants to say something to get them back to that comfortable place they were at just a minute ago, but he just can't figure out what. So instead, he starts to play.

**

They don't find the time to meet up on Wednesday. In fact, they barely see each other at all, and Blaine tries to be cool about it, they're barely even friends, and even if they were, there's no need to spend every minute of every day together. Still, he goes home at the end of the day feeling raw and irritable and just kind of restless.

They'd made tentative plans for Thursday after school, but when he meets Kurt at his locker before first period, Kurt seems distracted, barely paying any attention when Blaine greets him.

“Are we still on for duet rehearsal this afternoon?” Blaine asks, trying not to sound too desperate.

Kurt looks at him apologetically, shaking his head. “Sorry, Blaine. I promised my dad to help out at the garage. It's a busy week and he needs the help and I cold really use the money.”

“But -” he tries to swallow down the flash of anger and irrational hurt, hand gripping tightly onto the strap of his bag. “We had plans.”

Kurt sighs sadly. “I know. I feel terrible about this. Maybe tomorrow? After school.”

“The auditorium is booked tomorrow,” Blaine says, his throat tight enough that every word kind of hurts.

“Oh.” Kurt shrugs. “Well. I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

“Whatever,” Blaine says, turning to go. “I get it. It doesn't matter.”

“No!” Kurt reaches out a hand to touch his shoulder, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “I promise I still want to sing with you. I just can't today. I didn't think you'd – I'm sorry. I have to work today, but … how about Saturday instead? We can meet somewhere else. It doesn't have to be here.”

Blaine nods, hope fluttering in his chest. “You could come to my place.”

Kurt hesitates, but only for a second, before slowly withdrawing the hand that had still been resting on Blaine's shoulder. “Yeah. Okay.”

“What?” Blaine snaps his head up, staring at Kurt. “Okay?”

“Sure,” Kurt says, and it's only because Blaine is starting to get to know him that he notices the faint tremble of nervousness in his voice.

“Awesome.” He beams at him. This is a giant step forward, he thinks. They've never hung out outside of school or the Lima Bean since they decided to try this friendship thing. And now they're going to meet in private, for the first time since they fucked all those weeks ago.

He can't wait.

**

Thursday still ends up being an incredibly long, boring day. And Friday isn't much better. By the end of the week, Blaine is back to feeling restless and strangely unsettled. But he thinks he knows what it is he needs, so he waits until his parents go out for their Friday night date before he slips out of the house, getting in his car and driving off towards Scandals.

He hasn't been here in a while and he can't say that he's really missed it too much – the place is a total dive, but since it's the only gay bar in the area that lets people in without actually checking ID, he has been going fairly regularly for a while. And once he's inside, he usually does end up having fun.

It's Friday night so the place is pretty packed already and he just quickly downs a beer before heading straight for the dance floor. He's wearing his tightest pants and a tank top, even went to the trouble of applying eyeliner before he left, and he knows how to move his body. So it doesn't take long before he feels the first eyes on him, and then pretty soon hands follow, sliding up his hips, a guy not very much taller than himself pressing up behind him to move to the beat of the music together.

Blaine turns in his arms, moves in close, the music and the beer and the reckless atmosphere of the night thrumming hot through his veins. They start grinding and he gets into it immediately – moving his hips as he takes in the man who now has his hands firmly on his ass.

He's older, maybe mid-twenties, firm without being too muscled, dark hair falling into his eyes which are already hungrily sweeping over Blaine's body.

They're out behind the club fifteen minutes later, Mid-Twenties fumbling with the zipper of Blaine's pants, both of them breathing heavily as they prepare to get down to business.

Blaine sweeps his hands down the man's back, leaning back against the cold brick wall of the building, and this is what he wanted, isn't it? This is – He runs his gaze over the guy in front of him who's now shoving a hand down Blaine's successfully unzipped pants to palm him through his underwear, bending his head to rest his forehead against Blaine's shoulder as he rubs him to full hardness. The movement and the sudden even closer proximity – or maybe it's just a sudden gust of wind – makes Blaine get a whiff of the guy's cologne and it smells expensive and spicy and … wrong.

And suddenly, he doesn't want this anymore, any of this, he doesn't want to be here, he doesn't want to have this guy's hand on his dick, he doesn't want to touch him or smell him or be near him.

Suddenly, all he wants is to go home.

“Stop,” he gasps, grabbing for his wrist, pulling his hand from his pants. “Stop, I can't – I'm sorry. I can't.”

“Are you for real right now?” the guy grumbles, gaping at him.

“Yeah. Sorry. I'm – sorry.” Blaine slips away from the wall, walking backwards a few steps, hastily zipping up his pants again. He's not even hard anymore. And honestly, what had he been thinking? What is he even doing here? Nothing makes any sense anymore and he feels his head spinning. “I'm sorry,” he repeats.

Mid-Twenties snorts. “You are fucking serious. You're just gonna leave.”

“Yes?” Blaine shrugs apologetically. “I'm sure you can find someone else. It's still early.”

“Fucking virgins,” the man spits, turning to walk back into the club.

“Hey,” Blaine calls after him, waiting until he looks back at him. “What's your name?”

“None of your damn business.”

Blaine nods, listening to the crescendo of sounds as the back door opens, the sudden silence after it slams shut again. He takes a deep breath, collects himself enough to turn and walk back to his car.

Nothing about his life makes sense tonight, but walking away feels right. He hadn't even known his _name_. He has no idea why that suddenly seems so important.

**

He's home and showered and in bed by midnight. But he still feels oddly wired, wide awake, too fidgety to even think about sleep.

Before he really knows what he's doing, he has his phone in hand, typing out a quick text and sending it off without thinking too much.

To Kurt:  
 _Looking forward to tomorrow!_

He groans once he's hit 'send,' wishing there was a way to unsend it, but well. It's out there now. He doesn't send texts like that, and he has no idea why he even felt the need to text Kurt right now at all. And yet his heart almost skips a beat when his phone buzzes with a reply not two minutes later.

To Blaine:  
 _Are you drunk?_

He grins so widely it makes his cheeks hurt, texts back quickly.

To Kurt:  
 _No. Just excited that we're gonna du-ett tomorrow. (Get it? As in *do it*??) :P_

To Blaine:  
 _Go to sleep, Blaine._

To Kurt:  
 _Yes, sir!_

To Blaine:  
 _You're such a dumbass._

To Kurt:  
 _You love my dumb ass._

To Blaine:  
 _Hahaha. Ha. Ha. Very witty._

To Kurt:  
 _Goodnight Kurt._

To Blaine:  
 _Goodnight dumbass._


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt comes over early in the afternoon, and Blaine manages to maneuver him upstairs without his parents asking too many questions or making too much of a fuss. He rarely has people over and they're understandably excited, as in their minds he's probably kind of a weird loner who has no friends. And, well, he hasn't really made any friends except for Kurt and Keenan at McKinley yet, but he had always been careful to keep even his Dalton friends away from his parents, too afraid one of them would accidentally let it slip what Blaine was up to in the locker rooms and dormitories all over school.

He's not ashamed of it, of enjoying sex and having a lot of it. But he knows his parents probably wouldn't really appreciate knowing about it. So he lets them think he's a friendless weirdo instead. It doesn't matter.

But it does mean there are curious looks when he rushes to open the door for Kurt, takes his hand and drags him upstairs quickly. There's minimal interference though, but he knows he'll have to answer some questions later.

“So,” Kurt says once the door to Blaine's room has closed behind them.

“So,” Blaine repeats, shrugging his shoulders, sitting down at the edge of his bed while Kurt stays standing next to the door, nervously twisting his fingers together. “You can come in all the way, you know?”

Kurt gives a short nod, still glancing down instead of looking at Blaine. “Yeah. We should – we should practice.”

**

Music somehow makes everything easier, makes the tension dissolve somewhat, and seems to put Kurt at ease. Enough to end up stretched out on his stomach on Blaine's floor, propped up on his elbows and feet bopping in the air to the rhythm of the silly little melody Blaine is banging out on his crappy keyboard that he keeps in his room.

“This is kind of catchy.” Kurt grins.

Blaine grins back, looking down at Kurt from his chair. “Hey. Don't laugh. I wrote this when I was twelve.”

Kurt shakes his head, reaches out to pat Blaine's leg. “I wasn't laughing.”

“No but I can tell that you wanted to.”

“...Well. Yeah.”

“Rude!”

Kurt does laugh now, dropping his forehead down onto one arm. “Don't we have a duet to rehearse? Why are you playing me weird music you wrote years ago?”

Blaine pouts at him. “So you do think it's weird.”

“But in a good way. It really is incredibly catchy.”

“Thanks. I guess.” Blaine slides out of his chair, sprawls across the floor on his back next to Kurt. “I don't feel like singing.”

“Isn't that why I'm here though?”

Blaine blinks up at him, takes in his soft, shy little smile, the curve of his throat so long and elegant, his cute nose and beautiful eyes. And his freckles, so many freckles all over his face, and, he remembers vividly, spreading down to his chest and shoulders and arms. He wants to trace them with his fingers, with his tongue, kiss every single one of them, memorize and read them like star constellations. Lying here on his back, looking up at Kurt, he suddenly aches for his touch more than he ever has before. All he wants is for Kurt to lie down on top of him and cover him like a blanket, the heat and smooth hard planes of his body everywhere against his own.

“You're here because we're friends,” Blaine says, voice more quiet than he intended. “We are, aren't we?”

Kurt looks down at him and just for a minute something changes in his eyes, apprehension replaced with warmth, comfort, reassurance. “Yes. I think we are.”

Blaine closes his eyes, warmth sweeping through him and settling in his gut. “Good. I'm glad.”

“Yeah. You can actually be really nice when you want to be,” Kurt admits, and when Blaine opens one eye to look at him, his face is deep red, eyes fixed on his hands.

“Thank you,” Blaine says. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

Kurt's lips twitch in the smallest of smiles before he rolls onto his back on Blaine's floor, looking up at the ceiling. “If you don't want to practice, what do you want to do?”

_You_ , Blaine wants to say, but doesn't. Instead he follows Kurt's movement, rolling after him to lie on his stomach, a little closer together than they'd been before. “I don't know. Usually in this situation I'd just -” He bites his lip, not finishing the sentence.

Kurt rolls his eyes at him. “Yeah. No. I think I know what you were going to say.”

“You're still sure you don't want that, right?” Blaine asks. He just has to make sure. Because if there's even the slightest chance that Kurt has changed his mind...

“I'm sure,” Kurt says, and Blaine sighs.

“Okay. Just had to ask.”

“Why did you have to, though?” Kurt wants to know, eyes decidedly less gentle when he looks up at Blaine. “I mean, why does it always have to come down to that? Can't we just – I don't know. Hang out?”

“Yes of course we can,” Blaine answers, feeling a little defensive all of a sudden. It had just been a _question_. No need to get all uptight again. “I wasn't trying anything.”

“I just never know with you,” Kurt says. “You claim that you didn't ask me here for sex last time and yet ...”

“I didn't exactly hear you complaining when you fucked me so hard I could feel it for days afterwards.”

Kurt lets out a slow controlled breath, eyes fixed on the ceiling before he pushes himself off the floor, struggling to his feet. “Okay. I'm leaving.”

Blaine sits up quickly, eyes wide with shock. “What? No! Why?”

Kurt shrugs, lips pressed together tightly. “I thought I could do this. But it always comes down to the same thing with you, doesn't it? You just want – that.”

“Kurt, with how good you are at it you should really learn to use the appropriate words -”

“You want one thing from me and you won't stop pushing for it, will you? I think you can't even help it. You just have to make it all so damn difficult, you have no idea –“

“It's not _all I want_ ,” Blaine throws in, hurrying to get up off the floor too, chest tight with a desperate longing he hasn't felt in a while. “I haven't even _had_ sex in weeks. There has been one guy since you and I thought it was good but it kind of wasn't, and last night I went to Scandals and I – couldn't do it. I don't even know why. But it's not all I want. I promise it's not. I don't even – I haven't even wanted to fuck anyone in weeks and I don't know why but – there was this guy last night and when he touched me I just – I couldn't, so I walked away, and -”

“Do you want a medal for that?” Kurt spits at him. “For not fucking some random guy in a sleazy bar?”

Blaine swallows. “N-no. No. Of course not, I just – Kurt I'm not like that. Whatever you're thinking of me. I'm _not._ I swear. I just – I just -”

Kurt runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. “You just _what_ , Blaine? We were finally getting along, why did you have to ruin it?”

“I wasn't aware I was doing that,” Blaine says, quietly, desperation giving way to sadness, and something deeper, more intense, something that feels a lot like fear. Fear that this is it, that Kurt is going to leave and he screwed up their last attempt at friendship. “I'm sorry.”

“You make me crazy,” Kurt says, voice shaking. “And I don't _do_ this, Blaine. I'm not like you. I thought you got that.”

“I did. I do!” Blaine hurries to assure him, taking a careful step closer. “I'm sorry, Kurt. Please believe me. I'm so sorry. I keep screwing this up, I know, but it's just – you're so – fuck, I mean, you can't blame me for looking, you're pretty much _perfect_. I've never met anyone like you before and _god_ I know I'm screwing it up again. I'll stop. I promise, I'll stop. Just don't leave, please, I _like_ you, don't leave, I'll -”

“You don't _get_ it,” Kurt exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You – you're so -”

“So what?” Blaine asks. “What don't I get? I'm trying, Kurt, I really am, I -”

“Oh fuck it all,” Kurt busts out, and closes the distance between them with two fast, determined steps. And then Blaine feels lips against his, dry at first but insistent, purposeful, solid. Kurt's hands thread through his hair, angling his head the way Kurt wants it as Kurt's tongue parts his lips, presses inside his mouth to meet his own, the kiss dirty and hot and hungry from the beginning.

Blaine moans helplessly, tips his head back for Kurt, his muscles going weak and pliant as Kurt starts walking him backwards until he hits the wall beside his dresser. Kurt presses him back against it, crowding into him even more, finally breaking their kiss with a wet sound that makes Blaine's already half-hard dick twitch in the confines of his pants.

“You really need to learn to shut the fuck up,” Kurt hisses.

“Yes,” Blaine breathes, because _yes_ , anything, _anything_ for Kurt, and then Kurt is kissing him again and Blaine opens his mouth for him, flattening his hands against Kurt's broad, warm chest. He can feel his heartbeat.

Another low moan escapes his throat when Kurt grabs for his wrists, grabbing on tight, lifting Blaine's arms above his head to pin them against the wall. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” he says, voice gravelly and rough and enough to make Blaine sweat in earnest, arousal spiking so high he thinks he's going to explode any second now. And then Kurt takes that remaining half step forward to close the gap between them, bending his knees the slightest bit to press their straining bulges together in the most delicious way possible.

Because holy shit Kurt is hard too and Blaine feels dizzy with the realization, so turned on he can barely breathe. He wants to reach out and touch, pull Kurt closer, but his hands are still pinned above his head, and it doesn't seem as if Kurt has any intention of letting go.

It leaves him completely helpless and at Kurt's mercy, but when Kurt starts rocking his hips, grinding their cocks together with just the right amount of pressure, all Blaine wants is for this to never end.

Kurt angles his hips, using his thighs to push Blaine's legs further apart, bending his own knees lower to grind up harder, lifting Blaine up onto his toes with each roll of his hips.

They're both fully dressed and he knows Kurt is still sort of angry at him or disappointed in him or whatever, but he's so fucking hard and Kurt is relentless, pinning him to the wall and rubbing them together in a hurried, urgent rhythm.

Blaine feels his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, throbbing, aching, and he bucks forward into Kurt, needing more, needing – just _more_.

He's rewarded with a growl and Kurt's teeth scraping over his neck, and then Kurt lets go of Blaine's wrists. Before Blaine can protest, because he'd kind of liked that, he feels Kurt's hands slide over his ass and to the backs of his thighs, and then he's being lifted up, legs wrapping around Kurt's waist as Kurt presses into him harder to keep him up against the wall.

It's a whole new angle, a whole new level of being at Kurt's mercy, and Blaine throws his head back against the wall and gasps out at the sudden burst of pleasure as Kurt pushes against him _hard_. It feels _amazing_ , and he'd thought this couldn't get any better. He's happy to be proven wrong.

Kurt holds onto his thighs hard enough to bruise and rolls his hips into him again again _again_ , and all Blaine can do is hang onto him and let it happen and he doesn't understand it, but he's about to come from it anyway.

His swollen cock is aching, trapped in his pants and against Kurt's impressive bulge, and it's sharp pleasure-pain that winds itself higher and higher in Blaine's gut, at the base of his spine, until he has to bite his lip to keep from crying out. They don't have the house to themselves and he doesn't need anyone barging in to interrupt this, not when he's feeling hot all over and so close oh _god oh fuck so close so close_...

Orgasm is a piercing hot rush of release, fingers curling into Kurt's shoulders and legs tightening around his wait as his entire body arches into it, burning bliss flooding every corner of his being. He rides the waves of his pleasure, mouth falling open around a soundless scream as thick pulses of come soak into his underwear.

Kurt comes just a few seconds later, biting down on Blaine's shoulder to muffle his moan, hips bucking erratically and hands grabbing onto Blaine's thighs so hard it hurts. But Blaine doesn't mind, slumps against the wall, spent and blissed-out and trembling with aftershocks and oversensitivity, content to let Kurt take his own pleasure any way he wants.

When it's over, they slide to the floor together and Blaine isn't even sure how; his limbs aren't communicating with him yet, his brain still foggy and slow and overwhelmed. Yet somehow he's being lowered to the hardwood floorboards, legs falling away from Kurt's waist, fingers unclenching from the front of Kurt's shirt.

He reaches out on instinct as Kurt tries rolling away, pulls him down on top of him instead. And Kurt, still panting heavily and with eyes still hooded and dark with sex, goes willingly, his weight settling on top of Blaine warm and heavy and comforting.

“Stay,” Blaine pleads, hardly even recognizing his own voice.

“We need to talk about this,” Kurt insists, breathless.

“Then stay,” Blaine repeats, and Kurt nods against the side of his head.

“For a little while.”

“Thanks.”

“Can I borrow clean underwear? I didn't – I didn't plan for this.”

“Yes,” Blaine says. “Yes, anything.” He wraps his arms around Kurt to keep him from going anywhere, letting the solid weight of Kurt ground him as his heart flutters in his chest in a way he thinks he's just now finally starting to understand.


	11. Chapter 11

He lets Kurt use the bathroom, handing him a pair of clean underwear, and then changes quickly in his bedroom while waiting for Kurt to return. He cleans up as well as he can with only a few tissue papers at hand, sits down on the edge of his mattress as soon as he's fully dressed again.

His heart is still pounding even though he has long since recovered from his orgasm – now he just feels restless, insecure, afraid. He hasn't felt that way many times in his life and he doesn't really care for it.

But then the door opens and closes softly and Blaine keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the hands folded in his lap, not daring to look up at Kurt because he's scared of what he'll see in his eyes. If Kurt tells him this was all a mistake – he thinks he'll just shatter and break and he doesn't understand how a simple sex act can make him feel so vulnerable when it had been so mind-blowingly satisfying while it lasted.

Kurt's steps are soft, socked feet barely making any noise on the floorboards, and then the mattress dips next to him as Kurt carefully sits.

“Blaine,” he says.

Blaine keeps looking at his fingers, hoping that if he just draws this out long enough that – what? That Kurt won't leave? Maybe if he sits here without speaking for the rest of forever, Kurt will stay here with him. He doesn't want to be alone right now. He's never liked being alone.

“Blaine,” Kurt repeats, voice quiet but firm. “Look at me. Please!”

And Blaine lifts his head, meets his eyes. He can't not. “Hey,” he says, attempting a smile. He knows it doesn't look like one.

“We really need to talk about this,” Kurt tells him. “You know we do.”

“Yeah.” He has to swallow several times, it feels like there's something stuck in his throat. “We do. Look, Kurt -” He takes a breath, preparing for what's to come. “I'm … sorry. I really am.”

Kurt nods. “Yeah. I am too. I didn't mean to – I'm sorry.”

Blaine wants to be closer to him so badly, the mere few inches between them are killing him. But he has pushed Kurt enough for one day. So he stays where he is. “Don't be sorry,” he says. “Please, don't be. It was amazing.”

“I was – kind of rough,” Kurt says, blushing and lowering his eyes. “Again. And I didn't – are you okay?”

_Are you okay?_ The words sink into Blaine, humming under his skin, sending a pleasant rush of warmth all the way to his core. Whatever else happens next, Kurt actually _cares_. “I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine.”

“I'm not – I'm -” He breathes in, deeply, exhales until all the air has left his lungs. The words are difficult, but … he trusts Kurt. He knows Kurt will never use them against him. And he has no idea where this trust is even coming from, but Kurt is here. Kurt cares if he's okay. He trusts him. “I'm scared,” he admits.

“What are you scared of?” Kurt's eyes widen, concern taking over his face, and he leans into him, just the tiniest bit, but enough to allow Blaine to say what's been on his mind for weeks now.

“Of being alone,” he says. “Of you leaving right now and never speaking to me again.” He pauses, and he can't look Kurt in the eyes for the next part. “I've never felt like this before.”

Kurt reaches out, takes his hand, and Blaine breathes easier. “Like what?” Kurt asks.

Blaine shrugs. _Like I need you,_ he wants to say. What comes out instead is, “Like I just don't want to be alone.”

“I really just don't get you,” Kurt says, surprised, his voice gentle. “I just – I'm here, Blaine. Okay? I haven't left yet. I'm here.”

“I know.” This time, Blaine does manage to smile at him. “Thank you for that. I'm – I mean, believe me, I'm as confused as you about – this thing that's going on here.”

“So...” Kurt bites his lip, hesitates for just a second. “So there is a … _thing_ … going on here?”

“I don't know.” Blaine sighs in frustration. “But in the spirit of complete honesty, I – I wanted this to happen. I had been thinking about it a lot.”

“Oh.” Kurt's face falls and he withdraws his hand, looks away. “So this doesn't actually mean anything to you. Okay. I see.”

“No, not like that!” Blaine runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated and angry at himself. “I'm saying this all wrong, I'm sorry.”

Kurt is silent for too long, staring straight ahead, and Blaine can't find the words to draw him out of it. 

“I told you I wasn't the type for casual,” Kurt finally speaks up, and his voice is controlled, the anger barely discernible beneath the surface. “I told you. Repeatedly. You knew that your constant innuendo was making me uncomfortable. And yet you walked up to me, talked me into singing with you, invited me to your place, and made me believe we were friends. Just for sex? And then you did the same thing all over again?” He turns his head, and his eyes are cold when they bore into Blaine. “You used me,” he says.

“No, I -” Blaine shakes his head firmly, panic rising up quickly in his chest. “Kurt, I swear I didn't -”

“You know what? _Fuck_ you, Blaine. I actually thought we were becoming friends.”

“Hey!” Blaine grasps for the strand of irritation amidst the fear, uses the momentum of that flash of swirling anger for his next words. “I made a few comments, but you're the one who dry-humped me up against a wall. I'm actually surprised you didn't push me _through_ the wall, you were really fucking into it, you know?”

Kurt visibly deflates, drops his face into his hands, elbows propped up on his knees. “I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – Oh god, you just drive me _crazy_. Do you get that? It's like – you know exactly how to get to me. And then you look up at me with those big puppy eyes until I just – believe you, until I just give in, and it's like – it's like you're _challenging_ me or something.”

“Maybe I am,” Blaine admits. “I like it when you – when you get like that.”

“Yeah, but why?” Kurt wants to know, the last remnants of anger making way to nothing but confusion as he glances up at Blaine. “And why me?”

Blaine sighs. “I don't have an answer to that first question. I just – it really does something for me, okay? As for why you … well.” He tries a grin, small, tentative, but there. “I mean, just look at you. You're the hottest guy I've ever seen.”

“I'm -”

“No, I mean it! You know I – you know I find most people attractive. But, Kurt, you're so far above all of them, how can you not know that? How can't others be telling you this every minute of every day? You're perfect.”

“I'm not.”

“And you're smart and funny and so _kind_ and caring and when I'm with you, I just feel – comfortable. And it's never been like that before. This is all new to me too. But I – I think I really like it and I – want more of it. Kind of. And that's why I wanted you to come over. Because I honestly love spending time with you.”

Kurt shakes his head, sitting up straight again to twist around on the bed, folding one leg under himself so he's facing Blaine. “I have trouble believing anything at all could be new to you anymore.”

“I get that. But this is!”

“Okay,” Kurt says. “Okay. As for all the other stuff – I mean. I don't know what to say. Are you – what _do_ you want from me here, Blaine?”

He lifts his shoulders helplessly, shaking his head. “I have no idea, okay? I just don't want you to leave. I want – I want to keep spending time with you.”

“And have sex?”

“Look, I don't -”

“Because I can't change who I am, Blaine. I've broken my own rule twice now, and I – I'm not proud of it. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep hanging out with you and having sex with you and then you go and sleep with someone else. That's just not who I am. And you have to understand that.”

“And yet we've had sex twice.”

“I know.” Kurt bites his lip. “I can't explain it. But I also can't keep doing it.”

“What if -” Blaine wraps his arms protectively around his chest, pulse quickening as he prepares to venture into unknown territory for the first time. “What if I didn't want casual anymore either?”

Kurt looks at him for a long time, and his voice is soft and a little sad when says, “I don't know, Blaine.”

“Couldn't we just – I don't know.” He feels his heart sink, but he can't give up, not this easily.

“Have you ever had an actual boyfriend?” Kurt wants to know.

Blaine shakes his head. “No. I haven't. I've never wanted to.”

“I have,” Kurt reminds him.

“Yeah. You told me.”

“And it was great. For me. It was everything I wanted.” Kurt averts his eyes, staring past Blaine's shoulder, a far-away, sad look on his face. “He held my hand and I brought him flowers and we took each other out on dates.” A slow smiles steals over his face as he loses himself in the memory – the happy memory of his first love. “I drove him home after our first date and we kissed goodbye on his front porch until his dad opened the door and asked if we intended to spent the entire night out there. He used to fall asleep with his his head in my lap when we watched TV and he wrote me a song for my birthday.” He runs a hand over his face, sighs deeply. “When we started having sex, it was – it felt right, you know? It wasn't about getting off. It was – we felt so close to each other. It was amazing. But it was a part of our relationship, just one part of it. It wasn't everything.”

“That sounds lovely,” Blaine says.

Kurt nods. “It is. It … was. But Blaine, just because that's the right thing for me doesn't mean it's the right thing for everyone. I don't want to change you any more than I want you to change me.”

“So you don't want to be with me.” He feels heavy, exhausted, the words slow on his tongue as the weight of rejection threatens to crush him.

“Blaine, I'm attracted to you. I think that much has been made very clear. And – I care about you. I do. You're – when you're not trying to get me to have sex with you, you're so sweet and smart and you make me laugh and I do enjoy hanging out with you. So much. But we just want different things and I can't – I can't.”

“So where does that leave us?” Blaine asks, desperate. He feels like crying, and fuck this, he hasn't cried in years. He doesn't want to start now.

“I don't know.”

“Please don't leave.”

Kurt hesitates, then takes his hands in both of his, slowly, gently, carefully. His eyes are still sad. “Blaine, I think we both need to think about this. Separately. Don't you agree? It's been – it's been kind of a long day.”

Blaine nods, blinking rapidly, lowering his head so Kurt won't see the panic in his eyes. “Yeah. Whatever. Fine.”

“Blaine, please look at me,” Kurt says, but Blaine can't lift his head, he can't be this vulnerable right now. If he allows it, he won't be able to hold himself together. And he's not going to break down anymore than he already has.

“I'm fine.”

“Blaine.” Kurt squeezes his hands, voice pleading. “I'm sorry. I feel like – I feel like a jerk, and I don't even know why. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I'm _fine,_ ” he repeats, fighting the urge to throw himself at Kurt's feet, _beg_ him to reconsider.

And then there are fingers in his hair, threading through his curls, and Kurt is moving in, pulling him into his arms. Blaine can't resist, not when Kurt is so warm and solid and _right there_ , his sweater soft under Blaine's cheek and the sound of his heartbeat in Blaine's ear. He smells like sweat and fabric softener and his arms are firm and strong around Blaine.

Blaine wants to let himself go so badly, curl up against him and just fall into the safety and comfort of his embrace. But he can't, because it will end, and it will hurt.

“I'm sorry,” Kurt says again. “I just need to think. And so do you.”

“Do we go back to not speaking now?” Blaine asks, voice slightly muffled against the fabric of Kurt's sweater.

“No,” Kurt promises, holding him tighter for a moment. “But we're not going to solve anything today. Not after – not today.”

Blaine nods, closes his eyes as he feels the brush of dry, soft lips against his forehead.

“I'll see you Monday at school,” Kurt promises, and then suddenly, Blaine is alone.

He sits on the edge of his bed in his room that feels too big all of a sudden, and wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold onto the warmth that Kurt has left behind. He'll have to make it last at least until Monday.

Being alone has never been so hard before. But he has no desire to go and seek out companionship elsewhere. If he wants to convince Kurt that he's good enough, he's going to have to get through this by himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Sunday seems to drag on forever. Blaine spends most of it hanging out in the living room and watching TV – he can't stand the thought of being alone in his room and at least this way his parents keep passing through, his dad watching a game with him, his mom joining him on the couch when her favorite show comes on. At least he's not alone. Besides, if he stays in his room with only his thoughts for company, he just knows he'll work himself up into a panic attack imagining all the ways Kurt could tell him on Monday that he never ever wants to see him ever again.

He knows he's been pushing Kurt, and he feels sorry for it, so very sorry. Kurt had told him, again and again, that he didn't like the way Blaine stared at him or spoke to him. And yet he had never outright told him to go away and Blaine had taken that as a good sign. If Kurt breaks things off between them now, before they ever even had a real chance to begin at all, Blaine knows he has only himself to blame.

There is no denying it anymore – he'd been up half the night battling his emotions and trying to make sense of them. He knows now, he's sure. As sure as he's ever been of anything in his life. He has feelings for Kurt. Feelings that go beyond mere attraction. Whether he wants those feelings or not is beside the point; they're already there. And he has to learn to live with them. Which isn't the easiest thing to do, especially since he has no idea where Kurt stands on all of this.

Monday morning Blaine is out of the house way too early, skipping breakfast despite his mother's insistence that he eat something. His stomach is rebelling and he doesn't think he could keep anything down, though, so he tells her he has to meet up with his lab partner before class and leaves half an hour early. He just _needs_ to see Kurt as soon as possible. He's barely slept all night, tossing and turning and dreading today. But here it is, and he just wants to get it over with. He wants to _know_. He needs to know.

He sits in his car outside the school for twenty minutes before he actually gathers the courage to go inside – he hasn't seen Kurt's car pull into the parking lot yet, but it's a big parking lot. He could have just missed him. And staying outside isn't going to solve anything.

He walks past Kurt's locker on the way to his own, but Kurt isn't there yet, or not there anymore, and Blaine has no idea where to find him, or if Kurt is going to be looking for him, or how any of this is supposed to work. So he opens his locker, stands there for a second, and then pulls his phone out of his pocket to just end this uncertainty and call Kurt. What's the worst that could happen?

“Hey,” Kurt's voice says right behind him before he can even dial, and he lowers his phone, feels his entire body just – buzz, at the sound of his voice. He turns slowly, heart hammering so hard in his chest he's sure Kurt must be able to hear it.

“Hey,” Blaine says back, trying to sound cheerful, knowing he's failing.

Kurt looks at him for a long moment, his smile fading to a look of concern. “Are you all right?”

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah. I'm awesome,” he lies.

“You look – you don't look so good,” Kurt tells him. “If you're not feeling well -”

“It's nothing,” Blaine promises. “I just – I didn't sleep well.”

Kurt nods. “I'm sorry. I feel like such a jerk for the way I left you Saturday.”

“It's okay, really,” Blaine says. He doesn't want Kurt to feel guilty. He wants – god, he just wants to be closer to him. He just wants his arms around him again with an intensity that fucking terrifies him.

“No, it's not,” Kurt says. “Listen, we should talk. For real this time. Are you free after school today?”

Blaine nods, heart sinking. Not that he has any real relationship experience, but he's seen enough teen movies to know pretty well that 'We Need To Talk' almost never means good things. “Yeah. No plans this afternoon,” he confirms.

“Good.” Kurt smiles at him. “We could go to the Lima Bean, if you like?”

“Sounds good,” Blaine says, forcing the corners of his mouth up into a smile, waits until Kurt is walking away before he turns around to his locker again to retrieve his book. He manages to find the correct one, shoves it in his bag, slams the door shut, and then just slumps forward, forehead resting against the cool metal as he digs deep inside himself for the last ounces of strength to carry him through the day. He's so fucking exhausted and he feels shaky and unsettled and now he has all of Monday to get through before he's going to get any answers.

A hand lands on his shoulder, gentle yet strong squeezing lightly in a way that makes his eyes slip shut.

“Blaine?”

He blinks his eyes open, turns his head. Kurt is back. “Hi. Again.”

“You're not okay.” It's not a question.

Blaine shakes his head a little, sighs deeply. “I don't know. I just – I really haven't slept much. Too many thoughts, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kurt says. “Yeah, I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

Blaine shrugs. “Everything. Making you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to. I never want that. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, no!” Kurt takes a step closer, his hand never leaving Blaine's shoulder. The hallways are emptying and they're going to be late for first period, but Blaine doesn't care. Nothing matters except Kurt's hand on his shoulder.

“I just wanted -”

“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts, his eyes never leaving Blaine's. “It's okay. We'll talk about everything, okay? But right now I need you to tell me if you think you can go to class or if I should take you to the nurse. Or home. Whatever you prefer.”

“I'm fine,” Blaine insists. They're going to meet up after school, he can't go home. They need to do this _today._

Kurt bites his lip, and he looks unsure for a second, and Blaine reminds himself that this is as new for Kurt as it is for him. Their particular situation is nothing either of them have ever been in before. “Blaine, if you're worried about our talk this afternoon, you don't need to be, okay?” Kurt finally says. “I feel a bit presumptuous assuming this is all about – you know. But just in case it makes you feel any better, I do think we're friends. I don't know how it happened and you drive me insane sometimes, but – you're my friend. And right now, I'm worried about you.”

Blaine lets out a long breath as his muscles just – relax, some of the tension melting out of his body and leaving him feeling even more tired, but not as jittery anymore. “Oh. Okay.”

The hallways are as good as empty now and they're definitely going to be late, but Kurt is still standing there with his hand on Blaine's shoulder, his thumb gently caressing the skin over Blaine's collarbone through his shirt.

“Just – come here,” he breathes eventually, taking a step closer, and then Blaine is in his arms, enveloped in a tight hug, face pressed against the side of Kurt's neck.

It's warm and safe and like having the ground back under his feet after he's been floating for two days.

He breathes him in hungrily, hands grabbing fistfuls of the back of Kurt's shirt, and he's starting to tremble, he can feel it, vibrating from his core to every corner of his body. “Kurt,” he chokes, chest tight with emotion, with relief, with an onslaught of _feelings_ that he doesn't know how to deal with.

“Blaine, you're shaking,” Kurt whispers, tightening his arms around him, breath warm against the side of Blaine's face. He sounds young and scared, and reassuring and concerned all at the same time, and oh god, Blaine knows he can't stop this anymore, he's falling, falling, and all he can do is hope that Kurt will be there to catch him. He's at his mercy in more way than one now and it's terrifying and exhilarating and more than he can handle.

“I – I can't -” he manages, breathlessly, pressing closer to Kurt, needing to feel him, to be surrounded by him, to crawl inside him and never come out. He's _desperate_ for him and he has no explanation, but maybe he doesn't need one. Maybe all he needs is Kurt Kurt _Kurt_ , always, everywhere, all the time.

“I had no idea -” Kurt rubs a hand up and down his back soothingly, buries his face in Blaine's curls for just a minute. “Let's get out of here,” he finally decides, pulling back enough to look Blaine in the eyes. “What do you say? Let's skip today and go to my place, dad is at work and so's Carole, and Finn is in class.”

“Wait, really?” Blaine asks, not daring to hope. “Are you sure?”

“This has been going on long enough,” Kurt says. He sighs. “I haven't been sleeping well either, Blaine. And I get the feeling that we're not going to get very much out of going to class today anyway. So. My place? If we leave now no one will notice, but we need to be quick.”

Blaine nods, because yes, yes of course, it's not even a question. He will follow Kurt anywhere. “Okay.”

“Good. Come on.” Kurt pulls back from the hug, but only long enough to take Blaine's hand instead, threading their fingers together. “I'll make you a cup of coffee and then we can figure out this entire mess together.”

“Kurt.” Blaine tugs at their joined hands until Kurt looks at him, meets his eyes.

“Mmm?”

“Thank you,” Blaine says, and means it. He feels better than he has since Saturday afternoon and he's so grateful that Kurt is being so nice to him right now.

Kurt's eyes soften even more, a gentle smile on his face as he squeezes Blaine's hand. “Oh Blaine,” he says. “I really don't get you, but,” he blushes, lowers his eyes. “I think I really want to. If that's okay.”

“That's so okay,” Blaine breathes, relieved.

They hurry through the mostly deserted hallways toward the parking lot, side by side and never letting go of each other's hands.


	13. Chapter 13

Just as promised, Kurt's house is completely empty by the time they get there. Blaine parks his own car right behind Kurt's, almost forgets to unbuckle his seatbelt before getting out in his haste to get to Kurt again. Kurt, who is waiting for him next to his own car, holding out a hand for Blaine as soon as he's in reach.

Blaine takes the offered hand and smiles, grateful for any kind of physical contact, feels Kurt gently squeezing his fingers in response. They haven't even talked and yet Kurt is giving him this, looking out for him, and the strange aching void he's been carrying around inside all weekend is slowly shrinking back into a bearable size. He feels like he can breathe again.

Kurt leads them inside, makes Blaine sit down on the couch while he disappears into the kitchen to make them each a cup of coffee.

“Milk? Sugar?” he calls after a few minutes, and Blaine is jolted out of his quiet drifting.

“Um, just – black, thank you,” he calls back.

Kurt peeks his head around the doorframe. “That's not very stomach-friendly, you know,” he says.

Blaine shrugs. “I like it though.”

Kurt grins. “Okay then. Coming right up!”

“Thank you,” Blaine answers, even though Kurt is already gone again.

When he reappears, he's carrying a tray with not only two steaming mugs on it, but also a plate full of crackers and one with a selection of fruit – apple slices, grapes, mango cubes. “You looked like you could use a second breakfast,” he says by way of explanation, setting the tray down on the coffee table and pushing it toward Blaine.

“I didn't even have a first one,” Blaine admits quietly. “I couldn't eat this morning.”

“Then please,” Kurt says, sitting down next to him and nudging their shoulders together, “Eat something now. You must be starving.”

His stomach is protesting its current emptiness rather insistently, so Blaine nods, flicks a smile at Kurt in gratitude. “All right. Thanks.”

Kurt smiles back, then reaches out to take his own mug, leaning back against the cushions. “We can talk while you eat. If that's okay.”

“You're not hungry?” Blaine asks, surprised.

Kurt shakes his head. “I forced down some breakfast earlier this morning. I'm fine.”

And there, out of nowhere, Blaine feels his eyes sting, emotion flooding his chest. Kurt did this for _him_ and just for him. The thought of Kurt standing in his kitchen and preparing a plate of fruit just for him, just because he didn't want Blaine to be hungry – it's almost too much. The feeling of being taken care of like this is overwhelming and so, so good, and it swells inside of him until he feels warm all over. He has to look away to hide face, sure that his eyes will give him away if he lets Kurt see him.

“Hey,” Kurt says, a hand softly touching his shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

Blaine nods. “Yes. Yes, I'm fine. I'm just -” He laughs. “God, I'm tired.”

Kurt slides his hand a few inches down Blaine's arm before letting go, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Yeah. Me too.”

They sit in silence for a while as Blaine eats and Kurt sips his coffee, Kurt occasionally stealing a grape from the plate and grinning at Blaine shyly every time he does. It feels comfortable. It feels – so very _right_. Blaine has no idea how he has ever managed to live without this, this kind of sense of belonging he feels every time he's with Kurt. Every fiber of his being suddenly seems to long for it and he can't explain it, but it just feels too good to question it too much.

Once the coffee is gone and the plates are more than half empty, they both lean back in their seats, folding their legs underneath them so they can sit facing each other.

“I shouldn't have run out on you Saturday,” Kurt says without preamble. “I'm so sorry about that.”

“It was kind of my own fault,” Blaine says. “I shouldn't have pushed you the way I did.”

“Blaine -” Kurt sighs, lowering his eyes, plucking at a loose thread in the back cushion of his seat. “This is not meant as an excuse, but I just need you to understand, _really_ understand where I'm coming from here. I mean, you wouldn't disagree that our – sexual histories – are somewhat vastly different, would you?”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, of course. I mean, I know you don't really approve of my past choices, but I -”

“No!” Kurt interrupts, head snapping up, eyes meeting Blaine's, wide and insistent. “No, Blaine, that's not it at all!”

“Oh.”

“It's like I told you Saturday. I think what's right for one person doesn't have to be right for everyone. When I started seeing my first boyfriend, my dad sat me down for 'the talk.'” He shakes his head, a fond smile on his face as he thinks back. “It was embarrassing and I don't remember all the details, but this one thing he said just – stuck with me.”

“What was it?” Blaine wants to know.

“He told me to always remember that I matter, and that I should act accordingly. That I should respect myself enough to do what's right for me, not what's expected of me.”

“So,” Blaine swallows. “You think the way I've been treating – sex. You think I acted like I didn't matter?”

“No!” Kurt shakes his head emphatically, sighing in frustration. “I'm not saying this very well, I'm sorry. But I think – I think for you, it was right. It wouldn't have been right for me. But I think if it makes you happy and it's what you want, and if you're safe, then you are respecting yourself, you know? You _are_ treating yourself like you matter.”

Blaine thinks about it for a second, then bites his lip, steeling himself for his next question. “Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“The way I – um. The way I kept hitting on you and acting around you – did I make you feel like you, or what you – what you wanted, didn't matter? To me? Because that was never my intention, please believe me.”

Kurt hesitates. “...At first, yeah. A bit.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No you -” Kurt shifts a little closer, shaking his head. “I've been through some stuff,” he says, “And you couldn't have known about it. There was this guy for a while, this jerk who kind of kept following me around and kept _looking_ at me and – it ended when Elliott showed up, he left me alone because I think he didn't want to have to deal with the both of us. But – I have issues with people looking at me like that sometimes. But I _know_ you didn't do it for the same reasons he did. You didn't mean to make me uncomfortable. And you were never aggressive or obnoxious about it, you just, you flirt, you are that way around everyone. I know you're not like him. And once I got to know you I didn't really mind all that much, I just – I didn't really get it either. But, Blaine, I know you never meant to make me feel like that. I _do_ know that.”

“Kurt, I had no idea,” Blaine breathes, staring at him. “If I had known -”

“I know. We both kind of screwed up. You pushed, but I was the one who snapped and ran out on you without considering your feelings.”

“I really didn't mean to be an asshole,” Blaine promises.

“I didn't either.” Kurt smiles. “I guess if we want to move on from this, we'll just have to trust each other.”

Blaine feels his eyes widen. “You trust me?”

Kurt nods. “I do.”

“I trust you too.”

“When you said on Saturday that you didn't want casual anymore,” Kurt says, looking down and biting his lip. “What did you mean by that?”

“Oh, I -” Blaine takes a deep breath, pushes through the surge of irrational fear. “I meant, um. I feel – when I'm with you, uh. I don't – I mean, even when I'm not with you, I just – I keep thinking about you. And I – I don't know what any of it means. But I know that when I'm with you, it feels good. Really good. I like you, Kurt. A lot.”

Kurt nods, blinking up at him from under his lashes. “You know what? I really like you too”

Blaine can barely hear his own voice over the rushing of blood in his ears. “I'm glad.”

“But, Blaine, if we do this, if we give this a shot,” Kurt looks straight at him, serious. “I have to know that it's just _us_. No one else. For either of us. Do you think you can be okay with that? We should be clear on that before we let this go any further.”

Blaine swallows, meets Kurt's eyes, and Kurt is blushing dark red but his eyes are clear and sure and beautiful and fixed on Blaine's. And all the air leaves his lungs in a giant exhale as he feels hope relief _affection_ surge through him. “I want to keep spending time with you. And I know you have no reason to trust me, but, Kurt, I'll try, I'll do anything, I'll be good, just please, _please_ -”

“I told you,” Kurt cuts off his rambling. “I do trust you.”

“So, does that mean -”

Kurt blushes darker, the tips of his ears burning red, and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Blaine says on the end of an exhale, and then Kurt's lips are on his, warm, wet, and so gentle, and Kurt's hand is cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the skin over his cheekbone.

And Blaine tilts his head back for him, opens his mouth under Kurt's, and just lets himself be kissed, falling into him like his body has just been waiting to finally, finally let go.

Kurt pulls him closer, holds him tight, grounds him as Blaine feels himself floating away.

It's perfect.

Kurt's fingers thread through his hair, tilting his head a little for better access, and Blaine whimpers softly, his own hands coming to rest against Kurt's chest as he leans further into him.

And then Kurt breaks the kiss with a wet smacking sound, his breath brushing over Blaine's lips as he speaks. “Blaine, I know I'm asking a lot of you, I know this is not how you do things. I just need to know that you're really okay with this, I don't want to make you unhappy, I never want that -”

“Kurt,” Blaine interrupts, pulling back far enough to look at him properly. “I'm sure. I want this. And trust me, I am actually pretty happy right now.” He means it; he hasn't felt this good in a long time and he never wants it to end. Even if all they do is kiss or hug or cuddle for the rest of the day, it's going to be the best day in the history of _ever_ , he's sure of it. Because he's here with Kurt. Kurt is here with him. No one is going to run out this time.

“Okay,” Kurt says, nodding, pleased little smile on his face. “Okay, that's good.”

“I agree.”

“More kissing now?”

“I'm cool with that,” Blaine answers, and then Kurt's mouth is back on his and he can't talk for a while.

**

They're cuddled up on the couch an hour later, Blaine on his side and Kurt wedged between him and the backrest, spooning up against him. The TV is on in the background, even though Blaine is paying no attention to it and he's pretty sure Kurt isn't either, because when he remembers to check what they're even watching, there's a fishing documentary on.

He closes his eyes as Kurt busies himself playing with his hair, placing small kisses all over the side of his face.

“I like this,” Blaine sighs, limbs heavy with contentment.

Kurt hums, then stiffens behind him all of a sudden. “Holy crap, we skipped school today.”

Blaine chuckles. “Hey, it was your idea! You basically dragged me out of there!”

“I didn't hear you complaining.” Kurt loosens his arms around him a little as Blaine wiggles around, turning until he's facing Kurt. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Blaine says back, their faces suddenly only inches apart.

“Clearly, you're a bad influence on me,” Kurt breathes, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“This may come as a shock,” Blaine says, “But I'm not usually in the habit of skipping school either.”

“I know.” Kurt kisses his nose softly. “For someone who has such a badboy reputation, you're really incredibly tame. Except for – you know. The below-the-waist stuff.”

Blaine blinks at him, grinning. “I'm almost a hundred percent sure that there was an insult in there somewhere.”

Kurt grins back at him. “You're cute.”

“I think you're the bad influence,” Blaine tells him. “Dragging a respectable young man out of school first thing in the morning to force cuddles and making out on him in your living room.”

“I'll make it up to you,” Kurt promises, hugging him closer and pressing their foreheads together.

“Yeah? How?”

“Dinner? Tomorrow night? At Breadstix? I'll even pick you up at home.”

Blaine sucks in a sharp breath. “Are you asking me out on a date, Kurt Hummel?”

Kurt shrugs as well as he can in their position. “I guess. If you want to call it that.”

“I want to,” Blaine says. “Call it that, I mean. If that's okay. But I should warn you: I've never actually been on a date before. I have no idea how these things work.”

“Don't worry,” Kurt tells him, capturing his lips in a quick, playful kiss. “I'll take care of everything.”


	14. Chapter 14

The week goes by a lot faster than Blaine had feared, which is good because Kurt has decided to take him out on their first real date that Saturday, and Blaine honestly cannot wait. And even during the week at school they keep having lunch together, sitting next to each other in class, and there are quick, short kisses in empty corners where no one will see. And one afternoon in glee club, when Mike and Tina are singing a love song to each other, Kurt even takes his hand and smiles at him and Blaine can't focus on anything other than Kurt's warmth next to him all period.

On Saturday, he's ready for their date way too early, sitting by the window in the living room and pretending to play something on his phone while he's really watching the driveway. He's dressed up in tight, dark pants and a red polo shirt, even added a bow tie to the mix because guys in the past have told him that it makes him look cute. And he wants to look his best for Kurt.

Kurt's car pulls into the driveway exactly two minutes before he'd told Blaine he'd be there, and Blaine puts away his phone, rubs his clammy hands over the fabric of his pants, tries to calm his breathing. He wants to jump up, run out, throw himself into Kurt's arms so badly, but Kurt had been very insistent about doing this properly, coming over to Blaine's house and ringing the door bell and picking him up. So Blaine waits, heart fluttering as he watches Kurt get out of the car and make his way up to the front porch.

His parents are visiting his mom's sister who's just had a baby, so answering the door is up to Blaine himself. He gets up on shaky legs as he hears the bell, forcing himself not to rush to the door in his haste; this is a big moment and should be treated accordingly. He knows that's what Kurt wants too, and he can do this for him. For both of them.

But then he does reach the front door, opens it, and there is Kurt, looking so beautiful and so perfect, smiling as he looks at Blaine like he's actually pleased to see him.

And Blaine feels his mind just go blank for a moment, body thrumming with excitement and an incredible rush of happiness. “Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” Kurt answers, smile widening. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” he says, accepts the hand Kurt offers him, threading their fingers together. “So ready.”

“Good,” Kurt tells him, and leads him out to the car.

Blaine follows, and suddenly he's not even nervous anymore. So, it's his first date, but Kurt knows what he's doing. It'll be amazing.

**

They go to see a movie first since Kurt insists Blaine should have the traditional first date experience. 

He doesn't actually pay much attention to it though because ten minutes in Kurt takes his hand, tentatively at first, but when Blaine squeezes his fingers, he squeezes back, and keeps holding on. After another few minutes he gently pulls it closer to rest on his thigh, spending the rest of the movie alternating between playing with Blaine's fingers and rubbing circles into his palm. And Blaine just sits there as his eyes keep drifting shut and he wants to hum with the pleasure that seems to be radiating from the simple touch to every corner of his skin.

And while he does his best to follow the plot on screen, laughing at Kurt's whispered commentary on some terribly overwritten scenes, he's still – distracted.

“I'm sorry the movie is so bad,” Kurt whispers to him at one point. “But I promise, it's all part of the experience!”

Blaine runs his thumb over the back of Kurt's hand. “That's good then,” he whispers back. “I was promised the full first date experience.”

Kurt beams at him adorably and keeps playing with his hand and Blaine kind of zones out again for a few minutes, losing himself to the comfort of it all.

He's almost surprised when the lights come back on and there are end credits rolling across the screen, jolts upright and snatches his hand back in a quick reflex. “Oh,” he says eloquently.

Kurt looks over at him, grinning with just a hint of slyness around the corners of his eyes. “You okay?”

Blaine sucks in a breath, nods. “Fine, I'm – I'm fine. Thanks.”

“Just making sure.” Kurt shrugs, still looking pretty pleased with himself. “Are you hungry? Because I was planning on taking you to Breadstix next.”

“I could eat,” Blaine answers, squirming a little in his seat as he gathers the courage to get up. He's half hard in his pants from just a simple touch of hands and it's a little embarrassing, but then he hasn't really gotten himself off all week in anticipation of tonight. He doesn't even know if that's where the night is leading. But just on the off chance that they actually do end up having sex – he'd just kind of wanted to wait.

He never has waited before. He's never wanted to wait before. But now – 

He hadn't really wanted to jerk off to anything but Kurt anyway, and using him that way, even just in the safety of his own head, had kind of seemed wrong after Kurt had admitted how uncomfortable the blatant flirting had made him. Blaine assumes that he probably wouldn't appreciate being fantasized about like that either.

“Okay.” Kurt gets up first, smoothing down his pants before offering Blaine a hand to help him up. “Let's go, then.”

**

They're lucky enough to get a secluded booth in a back corner – because Kurt had called ahead and made a reservation as Blaine finds out once they're seated. The thought makes him happy; it feels good to know that Kurt has invested so much thought into this first date, that he's taking it just as seriously as Blaine is.

Because this is serious, he knows. And better than he'd dared to hope.

Whatever he'd expected – stilted conversation, avoiding eye contact, awkwardness – it's nothing like that. They get along. They _talk_. It's just like hanging out, but undeniably more romantic, and Blaine finds that he really likes it. A lot. It's definitely something he thinks he could get used to.

He slips up a few times with suggestive jokes and awful pick-up lines, but Kurt just shakes his head at him fondly and rolls his eyes and tells him to stop. And Blaine does his best to be nice.

After dinner, they share a slice of cake, feet tangled under the table, and Blaine can't help but stare at the way Kurt's lips close around his fork every time he takes a bite. It's so effortlessly sexy and Blaine hasn't even dared to think about anything like this in a week and he hopes that tonight at least ends in a kiss. He needs it, he needs at least that much after nothing but the fleeting pecks of the last few days.

Kurt drives him home after he's paid, denying Blaine's request to let him pay half. “I said I'd take you out on a date, Blaine,” he tells him. “So stop arguing with me. You can pay next time if you really want to.”

And Blaine shuts up about it, grinning to himself as he follows Kurt out into the parking lot and to the car.

Blaine's house is dark and empty as they pull up in front of it, and Blaine keeps sitting in the passenger seat even after Kurt has pulled to a stop in his driveway. He knows he should say good night and get out, instead keeps staring ahead, trying to think of a way to stall. He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want Kurt to leave after they'd had such a lovely night. He's not ready for it to be over just yet.

“You know,” Kurt says eventually, voice firm even though he's looking away and blushing when Blaine turns his head to look at him. “If you wanted to invite me in for a cup of coffee, I'd be fine with that.”

“I wasn't sure,” Blaine answers truthfully. “I'm not really well versed in appropriate first-date behavior.”

Kurt bites his lip adorably, flushing even darker. “Coffee is always good,” he assures him.

“So, it would be okay if I...” Blaine trails off, still not wanting to push.

“Just ask me inside, Blaine,” Kurt tells him, rolling his eyes, but there's an amused twitch around the corners of his mouth.

Blaine laughs. “Kurt, um. Would you like to come inside for a minute? I'll make you a cup of coffee.”

Kurt sighs, looking pleased as he finally turns off the engine. “Coffee sounds amazing. Thank you. There's just one more thing, though, if you don't mind?”

“What is it?” Blaine asks, eyebrows lifting. “Did you want to -”

He's cut off when Kurt leans over, cupping the back of his neck to pull him into a soft, lingering kiss that makes Blaine shiver all over and ends much too soon.

“There,” Kurt says. “Now we can go inside.”

**

They stand side by side against the kitchen counter, sipping their coffee, giggling every time they notice each other staring out of the corners of their eyes. Kurt isn't saying anything and Blaine has no idea how to start their conversation back up either, so they're silent. It should be uncomfortable, but it's just – not.

“This is slightly ridiculous,” Blaine comments happily.

“Kind of,” Kurt agrees. “We were doing so well earlier.”

“Maybe you should tell me a little more about yourself,” Blaine suggests. “Isn't that what people do on dates? Get to know each other?” He does his best to put on a fake smile, tilting his head in exaggerated interest. “So, Kurt, tell me. Have you always lived in Ohio?”

Kurt shakes his head at him, setting his mostly empty mug down on the kitchen counter. His fingers brush Blaine's softly as he takes his mug away, neatly putting it next to his on the polished wood surface. “You know what else people do on dates?” he asks.

“What?”

Kurt turns toward him, leaning his hip against the counter, a mischievous smirk on his face. “They make out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Even on first dates?”

“Sometimes. Definitely.”

“I see.”

“Besides,” Kurt says, waving a hand between them. “We've already done so many things backwards, it wouldn't even matter. Unless, of course, you don't want to?”

Blaine feels the breath leave him in a long exhale. “Believe me. I want to.”

“I was hoping you'd say that,” Kurt answers, and then his fingers are in Blaine's hair and they're kissing, kissing, Kurt's mouth soft and wet and gentle on Blaine's. It's a slow kiss, tentative and probing and yet so, so hot.

Blaine melts into him, lets himself be pushed back against the counter, the edge of it digging into his skin almost painfully as Kurt crowds in closer. He rests his hands on Kurt's waist in response, opens his mouth for him, lets himself be kissed until he's dizzy, until all he can smell, taste and feel is Kurt, the faint taste of coffee on his lips and tongue.

He wants to live in this moment, forever if possible, this perfect moment with Kurt pressed up against him so close, hands holding him in place firmly. And then Kurt's fingers move, tangling in his curls and tugging, pulling just a little, and Blaine can't stop the whine that escapes his throat, can't help the way his hips buck forward at the sensation.

Kurt breaks the kiss, rests his forehead against Blaine's, and Blaine keeps his eyes closed, feeling too much, too much...

“Blaine,” Kurt breathes. “Thank you for tonight. It was perfect.”

“It was,” Blaine answers, voice raspy, limbs heavy with want. But he's not going to push, he's not, he _promised_ -

“But I feel like we've done everything _I_ wanted,” Kurt continues, palms cupping Blaine's cheeks, thumbs caressing the skin under his eyes. “And you've been so nice about all of it. And I just – I want to know. Is there anything that _you_ want? Anything at all?”

Blaine shakes his head. “I promised we'd do this your way. I'm fine. I had fun tonight, Kurt. It really was perfect.”

“You know, if we want this to work,” Kurt explains, “I don't think we can just do it all my way. It has to be _our_ way. So let me ask again. Is there anything you want?”

“Kurt, I couldn't ask you -”

“I'm telling you that you can ask me,” Kurt interrupts. “I can always say no. But you have to let me know first. I just want you to enjoy this night as much as I have.”

Blaine swallows, hands squeezing at Kurt's sides, and his face feels hot as he gathers his courage. Kurt can always say no. “I want to touch you.”

Kurt is silent for a long moment, thumbs never stopping the soothing motion under Blaine's eyes. Finally, he takes a deep breath, nods against Blaine's forehead. “Let's go upstairs.”

**

They end up kissing on Blaine's bed, Blaine on his back and Kurt half on top of him, making out but still not quite touching the way Blaine had wanted to. And Kurt is making those cute little sounds in the back of his throat whenever Blaine kisses him in a way he particularly likes, and he's so solid and warm on top of him, and when he takes Blaine's wrists and pins them on either side of his head before moving his lips to suck gentle kisses into the skin of Blaine's throat, Blaine can't hold back anymore. His hips are rocking up into thin air because Kurt is still hovering too far above him, his cock all the way hard now and straining painfully against the confines of his pants.

“Be patient,” Kurt whispers, breath brushing hot over the patch of skin wet from his mouth, and Blaine whimpers.

“Kurt -”

“What do you want?”

“I – just – I told you. I just -”

Kurt lifts his head, looking down at him, and then, slowly, lets go of his wrists. “Show me.”

“I can't -”

“I want you to. Just – show me. It's okay.”

Blaine nods breathlessly, carefully lifting his hands, as Kurt rises up all the way onto his hands so that he's on all fours above Blaine. “O-okay. Okay.”

Kurt watches him as he brings his palms up to rest flat against Kurt's clothed chest, then starts sliding them down, feeling a nipple through the fabric on his way down. Kurt hisses, eyes squeezing shut, and it sends a rush of pleasure and accomplishment straight through Blaine, cock twitching painfully.

He keeps exploring, one hand sliding around and over Kurt's waist, up his back, pleased when Kurt arches into the touch like a cat. His other hand stops on Kurt's flat stomach, hesitating, unsure.

“Hey,” Kurt says, and Blaine blinks up at him, so turned on he can barely see straight.

“I -”

“It's okay,” Kurt says. “You can touch me.”

“But – are you sure? I don't want -”

“Blaine.” Kurt keeps his eyes fixed on Blaine's, color high on his cheeks with nervousness and what Blaine hopes is arousal. He takes a few controlled breaths, looking scared, fierce, determined. “It's okay. I know you want to.”

“Do you want to?” Blaine has to know.

In response, Kurt reaches behind himself for Blaine's hand that's still resting on his back, takes it, and guides is between his legs, placing it over the rather impressive bulge there. “Trust me,” he says, voice wavering a little as he flattens his hand against the back of Blaine's to keep it where he needs it. “I'm sure.”

“Oh,” Blaine sighs, fingers flexing a little against the obvious erection trapped in Kurt's pants. “Oh, I – okay. Good. That's – good.”

Kurt snorts out a laugh, hips bucking into Blaine's hand once, and he shudders. “I told you you can touch me.” He drops his own hand back down against the mattress to hold himself up, eyes closing as Blaine begins rubbing him gently.

It feels – he's always liked touching people, making them feel good. But this, this is already so much better than he can ever remember it being and they haven't even taken any clothes off yet. He goes for the button on Kurt's jeans with the fingers of both hands, stopping as he realizes what he's doing.

“I – um. Can I?” he asks, carefully looking up at Kurt.

“Go ahead,” Kurt whispers, “Do it. But take your shirt off first.”

Blaine hesitates. Not that he has a problem with that, but... “Why?”

Kurt blushes. “Uh. Just. So that you don't get any … stuff on it. Stains. You know.”

Blaine feels his eyes widen as he realizes what he's been given permission to do. “Oh. _Oh._ Of course. Yeah, hold on, just let me -” Struggling out of the shirt isn't particularly easy with Kurt still kneeling above him, but he manages eventually, letting himself slump back against the mattress. “Okay.”

Kurt gives him an approving, if slightly nervous smile. “You can go ahead now,” he tells him, voice only shaking a little. “I want you to.”

And Blaine doesn't hesitate this time, unbuttons and unzips Kurt's pants, works them down far enough to slip a hand into his briefs and wrap his fingers around Kurt's swollen cock.

It's smooth and hard and thick under his fingers and he has to bite back a moan, instead angles his head up for another kiss as he starts stroking, free hand fumbling to get Kurt's underwear out of the way completely.

It doesn't take long before Kurt is breathing heavily, forehead pressed to Blaine's shoulder and hips rocking forward in a short, urgent rhythm, fucking in and out of the tight channel of Blaine's fist as his fingers are digging hard and almost painfully into Blaine's shoulders.

And Blaine moves his hand in time with Kurt's thrusts, reveling in the feeling of being allowed to jerk him off, make him feel good. It's all he wants even with his own cock achingly hard and throbbing in his pants. It hardly even matters anymore; what matters right now is making Kurt come. He wants it so badly, wants to give him this, wants to hear him see him _feel him_ come on top of him knowing he did this.

“Blaine,” Kurt pants, thrusts growing erratic, his mouth falling open as he throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “So good, Blaine, so – _ohhh_ – good, oh god, I – I'm going to -”

“Yes,” Blaine breathes, “Yes, please, Kurt, do it, come on, come all over me, please -”

And then Kurt's face is right there against his own, breath hot on his lips. “Kiss me,” he breathes, and Blaine complies, sealing their mouths together as his hands keeps flying over Kurt's cock, feeling Kurt's need to come as if it is his own.

Kurt comes with a sucked in breath and a moan, biting down on Blaine's bottom lip as sticky-thick ropes of his release shoot all over Blaine's torso and all the way up to his nipples. And still he keeps rocking and Blaine keeps stroking him until Kurt hisses and pulls away, a thread of come stretching and snapping between his dick and Blaine's hand.

“Oh god,” he pants, going in for another kiss, face flushed and hair mussed and clothes rumpled, because he's still fully dressed except for the pants shoved down his thighs. “Oh my god Blaine.”

Blaine can only whimper and squeeze his eyes shut in response as Kurt falls to the side, lying there breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm.

He's so hard and he needs – he just needs _something_ , so badly. And he's covered in Kurt's come, the feel of it drying on his chest just making him ache even more. He wipes his hand off against a patch of clean skin on his stomach, tries to breathe through the want and hot-burning waves of arousal that make him tremble all over. He won't ask for this. He won't push. He'll be patient and trust Kurt to take care of him.

And then Kurt is back, propped up on one elbow, looking down at him. “You're amazing, Blaine.”

Blaine swallows, blinking up at him heavily. “I – thank you.”

“I mean it. That felt incredible. Thank _you_.”

“You just look so hot when you come,” Blaine blurts out, but Kurt just looks amused.

“Sit up against the headboard,” he tells him.

Blaine scrambles up there without a word, leaning back against it, watching eagerly as Kurt scoots after him, eyes still hooded with want despite the fact that his cock now lies soft and limp against his thigh. He runs a hand up Blaine's clothed leg, stopping just below his bulge with his fingers on the inseam of his pants, looks up at Blaine.

“Please -” Blaine hears himself whisper, resisting the urge to just press closer to the teasing hand.

“Do you – I'm going to touch you now. Do you want that?” Kurt asks, voice low and raspy.

“Yes,” Blaine sighs, unable to tear his eyes from the sight of Kurt's hand so close to where he needs it most. “Yes, oh fuck, _please_ -”

Kurt sits up, quickly undoing Blaine's pants, reaching inside to pull out Blaine's flushed, aching cock.

“ _Oh,_ ” Blaine moans, eyes closing and head falling back at the much needed contact. “Oh god _yes_ -”

Kurt moves closer to him, their sides pressed together and his free arm sliding around Blaine's shoulders to draw him closer as he starts moving his hand up and down Blaine's dick in quick strokes, his grip so tight and a little dry but so, so good, so good...

Blaine turns his head to muffle his whimpers against Kurt's shoulder as he finally gets what he wants, legs falling open as wide as possible with his pants still on.

“Don't stop,” he whines, one hand grabbing blindly for purchase, curling tightly into the fabric of Kurt's shirt. “Oh god, _ahhh_ -”

“Come on, Blaine,” Kurt encourages, still holding him, his hand on Blaine's cock insistent, firm, pulling him to the brink of orgasm so quickly Blaine feels lightheaded and hot all over with it.

Within minutes, he feels his balls draw up tight, muscles clenching, hips rocking off the bed as the need for release overrides every other sensation in his body.

He comes so fucking hard he cries out with the force of it, tensing, arching, bucking up wildly into Kurt's grip as jolt after jolt of incredible pleasure spikes hot under his skin.

And Kurt jerks him through it, lets him ride the intense waves of his climax until he's spent completely.

**

When he regains controls of his limbs and thoughts, he's still in Kurt's arms, curled against him in a half-sitting position, Kurt's fingers drawing soft patterns against his bare shoulder as he holds him tight.

“Wow,” Blaine says lamely, realizing they're both looking sort of ridiculous with their now soft dicks hanging out of their pants, his chest painted with dried come and Kurt's shirt wrinkled beyond belief.

“I know,” Kurt says, sounding a little surprised.

“I wrinkled your shirt,” is the first full sentence Blaine finds within himself. “I'm sorry.”

“It was worth it,” Kurt assures him, then shifts a little so he can glance down into Blaine's eyes. “It – was. Wasn't it?”

Blaine nods, confused. “I just came my fucking brains out, Kurt. It was absolutely worth it, if you ask me. But hey, it's your shirt!”

“I can iron it,” Kurt says dismissively, then snorts. “And wash it first, probably. But Blaine – I just wanted to say. Um. I'm sorry, am I too bossy? I don't even know, it's like every time I'm with you I just -”

“No, no, it's all right,” Blaine hastens to assure him. “I, um.” He blushes, not quite knowing if he should reveal as much, but in the end, he does trust Kurt. “I like it. Actually. When you get like that.”

Kurt gives him a skeptical look. “You do?”

He takes a deep breath, nods. He's never really talked about this, but he feels like he can, now. With Kurt. He feels – safe. “It makes me feel – I like it. Makes me feel like you're taking care of me.”

“I want to do that,” Kurt promises, leaning down to kiss him softly. “I was just – worried. That it was weird or something. I mean I tried, um – holding back a little, but -”

“Don't,” Blaine whispers, their lips only inches apart. “I want this. Us. I like it.”

“That's good,” Kurt whispers back, kissing him again. “Because it turns out that I really like it too.”

Blaine lets himself be pulled closer, cuddles up against Kurt's chest willingly. He's never been too big on post-sex cuddling before, even though he's always liked cuddling with friends. Maybe, he's beginning to understand, there's actually a way to have both, the sex and the cuddling. So far, he enjoys the fuck out of it.

So he stays where he is, lets Kurt play with his hair, and tries not to think about Kurt's curfew. They have a few more minutes yet before Kurt needs to go. And he's going to make the most of them.


	15. Chapter 15

Being with Kurt is wonderful and strange and new and exciting, and sometimes difficult, because it happened so quickly and Blaine has never done any of this before. Going on dates, being committed to one person. He doesn't want to go back to the way things were before – he'd enjoyed every minute of it, but now he's enjoying this new and amazing and terrifying thing between the two of them just as much.

He loves dates and hand-holding and throwing together an unashamed impromptu performance in the courtyard at school to serenade Kurt in front of the entire student body. He's never been one to hide. Kurt blushes and hides his face behind his hands at first, peeking through his fingers, but then he lowers them and beams at Blaine so widely, looking so _happy_ , Blaine knows he did well. Making Kurt happy is _awesome_ because it leads to tight hugs and deep kisses and mind-blowing sex, and, well, it makes Kurt happy. And when Kurt is happy, Blaine is happy.

One advantage of being in a relationship: they get to explore what they both like in bed and repeat the things that are awesome and it turns out, they kind of go really well together.

Kurt still can't say the word 'sex' without blushing most of the time (unless they're actually in bed together), but that never stops him from pushing Blaine onto the bed and holding him down and fucking him so hard that Blaine can feel it for days. It doesn't stop him from holding Blaine afterwards, cleaning him up carefully, kissing him and bringing him glasses of water and whispering to him how glad he is to be with Blaine.

Blaine still flirts, it's a difficult habit to turn off completely. But he never means anything by it. Sometimes he even does it on purpose because it makes Kurt all possessive and rough and Blaine totally gets off on that occasionally. He has guys hitting on him too, trying to pick him up even when he's with Kurt somewhere. Reputations have a way of just sticking around. But he doesn't want any of those guys, he has Kurt now. Kurt who is so wonderful to him and who makes Blaine so happy. He never wants to hurt him.

But the getting hit on has the definite advantage that, whenever it happens, he can reach for Kurt's hand, press in close to him and say, “No thanks, I have a boyfriend.”

Because they are boyfriends now and even though Blaine had never really imagined it, he likes that fact a lot. The first time he says it is three weeks after their first date, on the phone with Jeff trying to schedule a Warbler reunion party. Blaine listens to Jeff's suggestions, nods with the phone to his ear, says, “That sounds good, but hold on, I'll have to ask my boyfriend.”

Kurt, who's sitting next to him, lowers his magazine, gives him a wide-eyed stare. Blaine lowers his phone upon realizing what he just said, feeling it slip in his fingers, fumbles with it for a second and accidentally hangs up on Jeff. “Um.” He says eloquently.

“Boyfriend?” Kurt asks, breathlessly.

Blaine nods. “Is that – okay? I mean, we never said – but I just assumed? I mean, we said we're exclusive, so -”

Kurt interrupts him with a hard, passionate kiss, pushing him back onto the bed, and Blaine goes willingly. When he checks his phone half an hour later, naked and sweaty and still buzzing with euphoria, he has seven missed calls from Jeff and eighteen from several other Warblers, not to mention twenty-three texts including mostly emoticons and exclamation points. He shows them all to Kurt who reads over his shoulder, arms wrapped around Blaine's chest, his breath brushing Blaine's neck as he laughs joyfully.

“I guess they didn't expect that,” he says.

“I didn't either,” Blaine says. “But I'm glad it happened.”

Kurt kisses his naked shoulder and hums his agreement.

And still he just doesn't really understand what Kurt even wants with him sometimes; feels like Kurt deserves better, like at some point this is bound to break.

It doesn't.

And when winter break has come and gone and Kurt shows up on his doorstep on a crisp January afternoon to hand him a home-made chocolate cake and a bouquet of flowers that are impossible to find in Ohio during the winter months and greets him with the words “Happy three-months anniversary, sweetheart,” - Blaine forgets to be scared of them not working out. Apparently, they're both in this for the long haul.

Blaine's parents are out that afternoon and they make the most of it, making love for hours until Blaine is sore and happy and exhausted and Kurt has to cuddle him and hold him close the rest of the evening.

They're at a New Directions Valentine's Day party, hosted at Breadstix, courtesy of Sugar Motta's dad, when a guy Blaine has only seen a few times in the hallways but who seems to be friend of Sugar's slides up to them in the booth where he's sitting with Kurt.

“Hey,” the guy says, immediately reaching out to trail a finger down Blaine's arm. “You're Blaine, right?”

Blaine almost laughs at the face Kurt gives the guy, but decides to play along for a second. “Yeah. Why?”

The guy smirks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Wanna get out of here? I know a place -”

“Hey,” Kurt interrupts, reaching for Blaine's hand, squeezing tightly. “He's taken!”

The guy gives Kurt an appraising look. “All right. You can join us. What do you say? You guys into threesomes?”

Blaine is about to politely turn him down when Kurt, his sweet, beautiful Kurt who only ever shows this side of himself to Blaine, practically _growls_ at the guy, “Just get the fuck away from him!”

The guy holds up both hands in surrender, laughing. “Ooookay. Sorry man. No offense.” And with that, he's gone.

Blaine just sits there, eyes wide, kind of overwhelmed. “Kurt?”

Kurt yanks him close roughly, hands in Blaine's hair, kissing him hard and hungry and messy right there in the middle of their friends. When he's done, he trails his lips to Blaine's ear, bites at the lobe, says with his voice low and raspy “You're mine now. _Mine_! Do you get that? And I don't share!”

Blaine's cock swells to full hardness so fast he gets dizzy, a full-body shiver going through him. “Let's get out of here?”

Kurt is up in a flash, gripping Blaine's hand tightly as he pulls him with him. “My place is closer,” is all he says before they're heading for the exit.

Thankfully, Burt and Carole are out on their own Valentine's Day date all the way in Columbus where they'll be staying at a hotel for the night. So they have time.

Blaine almost expects Kurt to push him up against the front door and just kiss him until his knees buckle once they're inside, as that's what's been happening most times they've come back to an empty house.

Not tonight though, it seems – Kurt leads him up to the door with their hands firmly clutched together, unlocks the door, leads Blaine inside. And then, he lets go of his hand, closes the door carefully, turns to smile at Blaine.

“Go on ahead upstairs,” he says. “I'll be there in a minute.”

Blaine feels his eyes widen. “But – okay. I mean. What?”

Kurt leans in to kiss him then, one hand on his shoulder, his lips lingering on Blaine's for long seconds; just an innocent, sweet little kiss that shakes Blaine to his core, heart fluttering in his chest at Kurt's gentleness. “Go upstairs,” Kurt repeats. “And get naked. I'm going to grab us drinks. So we don't have to go later.”

“Oh.” Blaine swallows, excitement burning low in his gut. “Awesome. Yes. I'll just -” he motions towards the stairs and Kurt laughs, slaps his ass playfully as Blaine starts walking away.

“Be there in a minute,” he promises.

Blaine undresses in record time, stretches out on the bed as he waits for Kurt to join him. The air in the room is cool on his naked skin but he still feels hot in anticipation, has to resist the urge to reach for his dick that's resting hard and swollen on his stomach and start without Kurt. He knows Kurt probably wouldn't appreciate that.

It's not like he hasn't jerked off for Kurt before, but that was because Kurt told him to. Kurt likes it when what they do is for both of them, is about _them_ , the two of them together. Not just about getting off. And Blaine – he likes it too. He really does.

It had been overwhelming at first, the kind of connection he'd felt with Kurt every time they fucked. It had been overwhelming to have Kurt look into his eyes as he came, knowing he could look all the way into his soul. Sex with Kurt isn't just orgasms. Sex with Kurt is – it's _with Kurt_. It's affection and tenderness and being desperate for each other and it's Blaine giving himself to Kurt and getting so, so much in return.

So he lies on Kurt's bed, waiting, hands moving up to grip the headboard to keep them from wandering where they don't belong yet. Another thing he had never really thought possible: the waiting is almost as much fun as the reward. Because he knows it will always be worth it.

Kurt joins him about ten minutes later, carrying two glasses of water, top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his face slightly reddened as if he just washed it. He grins when he sees Blaine all spread out and waiting on the bed just for him, sets the glasses down on the nightstand.

“You look so good like this,” he says, crawling onto the bed next to him.

Blaine hums happily. “You really like this, don't you?” he asks.

Kurt smirks. “You naked? Whatever gives you that idea?”

Blaine shrugs, taking his hands off the headboard to reach for Kurt. “Just a hunch.”

Kurt captures his wrists, pins them to the mattress on either side of Blaine's head, and suddenly his face is right there against Blaine's, breath warm against his lips as he speaks. “No touching yet.”

“Kurt,” Blaine whines, struggling just a little against his hold, pouting up at him. “Not fair. You're still dressed.”

“And you're too impatient,” Kurt chuckles, then closes the rest of the distance to firmly press his lips to Blaine's. The kiss is slow, too soft, Kurt's tongue merely brushing against Blaine's softly over and over. But every time Blaine tries to press in closer, kiss harder, deeper, Kurt draws back, keeping it light and not enough, not enough...

“Please,” Blaine whispers eventually when Kurt breaks the kiss. “Please -” He's still so hard and he knows Kurt wants him too, and god he needs him, he needs him so fucking much, needs to touch him and be close to him and just feel him everywhere.

“It's okay,” Kurt assures him, kissing the soft skin under his left eye. “I'll take care of you. You know that, don't you?”

Blaine lets his head sink back into Kurt's pillow, eyes closed, sighs deeply. “I know, Kurt.”

“Good,” Kurt says, and then they're kissing again, kissing, kissing, and nothing else seems to matter for a while.

Only Blaine is still hard, and having Kurt this close, solid and heavy on top of him, his clothed body all over Blaine's naked one – it's so tempting, it's so good, and Kurt smells so amazing and holds him so tight and Blaine finds himself rocking up into him, he can't help it.

Kurt breaks the kiss, laughs cheerfully. “You are incorrigible,” he says, placing a peck on Blaine's nose, but his hands are tightening around Blaine's wrists.

“I'm sorry,” Blaine says, blinking up at him innocently but unable to keep the smirk off his face. “There's just this really hot guy making out with me on his bed and he's not nearly naked enough.”

“I don't know,” Kurt responds. “I'm quite comfortable like this.”

“Noo,” Blaine whines, sticking out his bottom lip, and Kurt promptly leans down to bite it.

“What do you want, Blaine?”

That's easy. “I want to undress you.”

Kurt nods. “I guess that would be acceptable.” He rolls away from Blaine, stretching out on his back, turning his head to grin at him. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Blaine sucks in a sharp breath and starts working on the buttons of Kurt's shirt.

He uncovers Kurt's gorgeous skin layer by layer, and Kurt just lays there, occasionally lifting a hand to pet through Blaine's hair when he kisses his stomach, or gasps with pleasure when Blaine sucks a nipple into his mouth, tugs at it with his teeth.

No matter how many times he gets to touch Kurt like this, it never gets any less arousing and exciting. And being allowed to undress him, to just touch him and kiss him everywhere, worship every beautiful inch of him – it's a privilege. It feels like a reward, though Blaine isn't sure what he's being rewarded for. It doesn't matter right now. He'll take it. If Kurt wants this, he's so, so happy to oblige.

Kurt lets him touch and explore and do what he wants until he's fully naked, then he grabs him by the shoulders, pulls him up so they're face to face, and kisses him, just once, a short, hard kiss full on the lips. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Blaine feels like he can't speak, so he just nods, every cell in his body straining closer to Kurt, to this amazing man who just always seems to know exactly what Blaine needs. “Kurt,” he manages eventually.

And Kurt runs the tips of his fingers down Blaine's cheek, so gently Blaine has to close his eyes with the rush of emotion, shivers. “You're beautiful,” Kurt says quietly, and Blaine feels like he wants to cry with joy.

“So are you.”

Kurt kisses him again, then flips them over, placing his full weight on Blaine for a minute as he buries his fingers in Blaine's hair, just holding him there until Blaine start squirming underneath him again, needing more.

But Kurt is one step ahead of him again, the click of the lube bottle loud over the sound of their joined breathing, and then Blaine tenses, relaxes as Kurt pushes the first finger into him. Everything is so good already. _This_ is what will make it perfect.

He doesn't know how long Kurt fingers him, just lets himself fall back into the mattress, hips rolling in tiny little movements with the thrusts of Kurt's fingers. It might have been minutes or half an hour, but when Kurt leans down over him, breathes cool air across his lips before pressing their lips together, Blaine blinks up at him, rocks up hard against the three fingers in his ass, reveling in the feeling of being stretched. For Kurt.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, “Please. Fuck me, Kurt.”

Kurt smiles, kisses him again, slips out of him carefully. “That was the plan all along.”

Kurt's cock is wider than his fingers had been and it burns a little, but it's good, it's so good, and Blaine is glad that Kurt is still holding him down or he thinks he might actually lift off the bed with how high his back is arching, thighs quivering as he spreads them as wide as possible for Kurt.

“That's it,” Kurt whispers, pressing all the way inside in one fast, smooth motion. “Just like that. You like that?”

“Yes,” Blaine whimpers, clenching and fluttering around Kurt's cock, and then gasping sharply and crying out as Kurt draws back, pushes back in _hard_. “Oh god yes please, _please_ -”

Kurt fucks him hard and fast and almost bending him in half – Blaine had never been into fucking face to face that much before Kurt, but now it's different, now it's perfect.

Because he can see Kurt's face, his beautiful expressive face, every nuance of lust and pleasure flickering across it making his dick twitch and his arousal spike hotly. And Kurt can see him too, and Blaine wants that, he wants Kurt to see how good he's making him feel.

The bed is shaking with the force of Kurt's thrusts and Blaine makes no effort to hold back his moans, there's no one else here and he knows Kurt likes to hear him.

“So good,” he pants, “Kurt, so good, so fucking good, god, fuck me harder -”

Kurt snaps his hips forward again again again, leans down to bite lightly into Blaine's shoulder. “You really never shut up, do you?”

Blaine whines. “Make me,” he challenges.

Kurt lifts his head, never stopping the insistent rhythm of his hips, his face flushed with need and his eyes dark. “No,” he says, shifting a little to change the angle of his thrusts, making Blaine cry out again and clench his hands in the sheets. “I want you to scream for me.”

It's just about the dirtiest thing Kurt has ever said to him in bed and Blaine feels his muscles go tight everywhere, whimpers and curses as he tries not to come on the spot. “Kurt, please, so – so close, _god_ -”

“Not yet,” Kurt breathes, rocking, rocking into him. “Not yet, sweetheart, hold back for me, can you do that?”

“Yes,” Blaine sobs, not sure it's the truth. But he'll try, fuck, anything, anything for Kurt...

Kurt fucks him and fucks him harder, his body draped all over Blaine, his hands back on Blaine's wrists, pressing them into the mattress above his head. And Blaine needs – he needs -

“ _Ahh_ ,” Kurt moans, lifting himself up a little, face tight with arousal. “Blaine, oh my god, I'm – close, I -” He slams into him hard, and again, and again, and then his body tenses, shakes on top of Blaine's as he comes hard.

Blaine cries out, strains up, and he's so close, he's almost there, almost there...

Kurt grabs onto his hips, grinding inside hard one final time at just the right angle, whispering in his ear, “Let go!”

And Blaine does, _screams_ in pleasure as his orgasm explodes deep in his gut, washes through him hot and sharp and so fucking perfect, toes curling and fingers clenching and every muscle seizing up hard. And Kurt is right there, right there with him, on top of him, rocking him through it until Blaine is done, falling back onto the mattress, limp and sweaty and utterly spent.

**

When he comes back to himself he realizes he's crying a little, and Kurt is holding him so close, stroking his hair and talking to him softly, sweet little endearments that just make Blaine want to cuddle up closer to his warm, naked body.

“Sorry,” Blaine chokes out.

Kurt kisses the corner of his eyes. “It's all right. Are you okay?”

Blaine nods. “I didn't mean to – It's just – I'm happy. Kurt, I'm so, so happy. This was amazing.”

“I'm glad,” Kurt says, holding their faces close together, so close Blaine can make out each individual freckle on his nose. “Blaine -” he meets his eyes, and his own are gentle, a soft blue, calm like the sea after a storm. “I love you.”

...And Blaine feels the last of the tension just drain out of him, feels his entire body just going weak, relaxing, melting into Kurt's everywhere they touch. “You do?”

Kurt nods, hand cupping Blaine's cheek tenderly. “I do. I really do.”

“I love you too.” It's the truth, has been the truth for a while now. And Blaine can't see it changing anytime soon. Maybe not ever. “So much.”

Kurt kisses him once, whispers, “Are you sure? You don't need to say it just because I did.”

Blaine shakes his head, placing his hand on top of the one that's still resting on his cheek. “I'm sure,” he says. “It's – You make me feel safe. You're so beautiful. And your freckles, god I love your freckles.” He laughs, reaches out with his free hand to trace them on Kurt's bare chest. “I'm so glad to be with you.”

Kurt pulls him in close, hums happily. “And I'm glad to have you. You're perfect.”

“I'm not,” Blaine protests, but Kurt just kisses him in response, and hey, that's the best answer Blaine could ever have asked for.


End file.
